


False Names, Right Nets

by ashes0909



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anonymity, Chatting & Messaging, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Online Friendship, POV Alternating, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Science Nerd Bucky Barnes, smutty epilogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 25,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashes0909/pseuds/ashes0909
Summary: After saving Steve from the Potomac river, Bucky Barnes disappears into the Costa Rican mountainside intent on staying off the radar. He only interacts with society for reconnaissance and surveillance - to make sure his tail is clear.Then he stumbles into a chat room.





	1. Part 1 - Online

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MassiveSpaceWren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MassiveSpaceWren/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by Wren's prompt for Fandom Loves Puerto Rico. Thank you so much for the idea and cheering me on throughout the writing process. This fic took longer than expected, mostly because it kept getting longer and longer, but I really like how it came out and hope you do too.  
> I plan to update twice a week.

**PART ONE**

**Online**

* * *

_With false names, on the right nets, they could be anybody._

_Old men, middle-aged women, anybody,_

_as long as they were careful about the way they wrote._

The fan overhead ticked with every turn, and Bucky settled further into his chair, straightening his baseball cap on his head as he hunched over the keyboard. The internet cafe was nearly empty, only an elderly woman near the cash register who seemed to be friends with the owner, and a man sitting a few computer screens down from him.

He understood most of what the owner was saying to the woman, enough to know it had nothing to do with him, and that was all that really mattered.

As his browser loaded he leaned back, inconspicuous, just enough to see that the other man’s screen had a box up with different users talking. Every so often the man would chuckle and shake his head, muttering to the screen.

It had nothing to do with him, and Bucky’s browser had finally loaded, so he turned back to the mission.

Newspaper after newspaper, every photo printed of the area on social media - Turrialba was remote but still a visited part of Costa Rica - he scanned them once a day and so far he’d remained unseen. So he stayed.

Next he switched to articles on Hydra, Laundry Detergent, Spanish Language, Steve Rogers Avengers, in that order.

He’d been in town for six weeks, just long enough to become a familiar face. The owner of the internet cafe recognized him; when he walked through the plaza people smiled at him. It added both a layer of vulnerability and security. They saw him as non threatening. Somewhere else might not be as lucky. If he stayed, he could assume a cover. Integrate.

A laugh broke his thoughts.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, voice gruff, but to the man he’d seen every other week for almost five weeks, he knew it would appear good-natured.

The man was still looking at his computer screen chuckling, but he turned his torso to face Bucky even as he typed. “Oh, nada, mis amigos--Roleplaying game? You know? A chat room.” He pointed to the screen. “Mi hombre said...joke.”

“Chat room? Never been in one.”

“It’s a place where people talk.” The man shrugged. “It’s fun. Good people. We’re playing a game right now.” The computer made a notification sound and the man turned back to the screen. “My turn!”

Bucky turned back to his own computer, the empty search bar waiting to be filled. That man was the first he had spoken to in nearly a week. Discounting cashiers and grocers, nearly a month.

Chat. Room.

Sounded anonymous.

He typed Chat Room in the search bar, and had no idea why the machine thought the history of chat rooms would be helpful. He had to narrow this down, what did he want to talk about? Sometimes it felt like the last time he did anything remotely “fun” was when he dragged Steve to that Stark Expo back in 1943. He didn’t want to talk about warfare or Brooklyn. Definitely not an Avengers chat room.

The blinking cursor on the search bar mocked him until he rushed out, one key at a time, having to search for each letter as he typed: Chat Room Stark Expo.

There was one result on topic and he clicked it, curious. He was prompted to make a username and it seemed cursory - it wasn’t like he was going to be chatting anyway. He’d been going by John in the mountain town, so he entered, “DoeJohn” and pressed submit.

W E L C O M E T O T H E F U T U R E

Greetings! Here you will find like-minded individuals looking to poke and prod and question. The channel guide will help you find your way around.

**#general** \- For everything and anything

 **#brainstorming** \- For talking out ideas

 **#designs_and_diagrams** \- For uploading media files

 **#memes** \- For the love of Science, let’s keep them contained.

He clicked on **#general** and watched the conversation scroll by.

**MarkX**

I think it’s going to drain R&D, like I’ve said many, many times

**StarkerStreaking**

we all kno how u feel about the avengers

**Brobot**

oh for the love of

**MarkX**

He’s probably frontloading at least a third of the budget. That money could be for innovation not--

Bucky thought about clicking the back button. Only a minute in and already they were mentioning the avengers--but…he was curious to see what had changed for Stark Industries in the last seventy-odd years, and he didn’t think that anyone surveying his internet use could access the data within these chat rooms without creating a username and signing in. It was a closed network. He shifted in the rickety plastic chair and clicked on **#brainstorming**.

**Bunson The Burner**

we’d need metal. lots of it. and pressed. assembled by _trained_ production operators.

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Or robots. They’d probably make less mistakes. SI would use robots.

**Bunson The Burner**

or we can hire people, give some jobs back to the community or whatever.

**Brobot**

I’m from #general: are you guys still talking about the flying car project? first avengers and now this. I swear.

Bucky straightened in the chair, remembering that first demonstration of the flying car back in 1943. It seemed attainable even then, but here they were decades later still driving on paved streets. He wanted to know more, but wasn’t sure if the conversation was about to take a turn into a different direction.

His neighbor seemed to be typing easily, anonymously…

**DoeJohn**

Anyone know how close they are?

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

To the flying car? Don’t even get Bunson started.

**Bunson The Burner**

Oh, I’m started! SI first unveiled the model in the 40s but that was a bust right away, it wasn’t until the late 50s that Howard even went back to the idea, with the war and then massive rebuilding worldwide. and they have the knowhow! It keeps getting caught up in the finance.

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Which is why we’re testing ways to make it durable and affordable.

**Bunson The Burner**

Efficient.

**Brobot**

I think you guys scared off the newbie.

**DoeJohn**

I’m here reading. Interesting stuff, but not much to add other than agreement.

**Brobot**

ah folks lookie here, we have a lurker. fitting username.

Bucky didn’t know what to type in reply, so he pressed the smiley-face on the side of the chatbox. A variety of faces and figures showing different expressions opened onto the screen. He found one that looked to be shrugging shoulders and sent it into chat.

**Bunson The Burner**

Efficient

**Brobot**

lol

**Brobot**

I think you’ll fit in nicely.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick disclaimer: I moved up the date of a real life event, because I wanted to incorporate it into the story. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! And thank you for all the love on the first chapter ♥.

The naranja trees outside Tony’s window swayed in the wind, the faint citrus scent making its way through the open window. It was a little after nine in the evening and being one of the largest cities in Spain, Valencia was alight with life in the street below. But Tony didn’t feel like going out. The conference only lasted another few days and he had no desire to shmooze with investors over sangria _again._ Still, he was bored.

He turned on his StarkPad and scrolled through the news, even dipped his head into the comments for a moment before noping right out of there. He might be desperate for conversation, but the comments section to any article these days seemed to border on the side of toxic. Rhodey was busy, Pepper too. The team was scattered, looking for the Winter Soldier and uprooting Hydra from SHIELD.

Back in the old days of the internet, Tony had loved finding secret rooms where people were chatting in IRC from all over the world. It was always a bit For Geeks Only, but Tony easily found people who understood his desire to connect with others, across the world, with only a couple of keyboards between them. He wondered if online chat rooms were still the same, years later.

It only took a few minutes of searching to see that chat rooms had definitely changed. They all seemed to be about things people watched, or read, or ate, or places they’d traveled. A lot of channels were devoted to media and links and godforsaken memes.

He put his cursor into the search bar and typed his own name out of habit, followed by the words, "chat room."

> **Tony Stark Babes**
> 
> **SIdeas**

Really? That was it? A chat for women who adored him and some pun about brainstorming? He had kind of expected better of the people that admired him. Where was Tony Stark Hunks, by the way? That’d be way more up his alley. He finally clicked on SIdeas, which claimed to be a digital Stark Expo, and entered it with a sigh.

He lurked for a moment, the conversation abating his previous concerns somewhat because it seemed to be an in depth discussion about polymors.

**g33kski11z**

I’m sure it would work, or maybe..what’s it called? I forget, the name of it but it’s old. DuPont made it in the 30s.

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Oh, I know what you mean. I think it starts with an F?

It didn’t. Tony knew it didn’t, and his hands were hovering over the keyboard, about make his first appearance as _TheMechanic is typing…_ \--he really hadn’t expected to participate when he made his username, but he considered it anonymous enough--when--

**DoeJohn**

polyacrylonitrile

**g33kski11z**

yes!

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

That’s not it. That doesn’t begin with an F.

**DoeJohn**

It doesn’t, but it’s the answer.

Tony snorted. The chat room went silent for a moment.

**g33kski11z**

Cool. Thanks @DoeJohn

**g33kski11z**

so polyacrylonitrile should work as a good acrylic fabric to--

Tony watched the conversation for a while before noticing the subchannels on the sidebar. He browsed them for a bit, getting a feel for who was active and who lurked. While the sidebar showed over 100 users on, only six were currently active.

No one was a genius here. Tony was not surprised. But there were a few insightful comments - not ones that he hadn’t thought of on his own - but insightful nonetheless, about the polymers R&D released last year.

Tony kept scrolling up, and it seemed like DoeJohn mentioned the flying car whenever people disagreed with an SI decision. Tony had read “What can you expect, this is the same company that abandoned the flying car,” in some variation in multiple channels.

And that’s when Tony realized he’d been reading a conversation that happened last week, having scrolled too far up, looking for DoeJohn’s flying car comments. It was enough to make him want to message him directly about it, but that would be weird. “‘Hey, you’ve said this six times in the last eight days, I think you may have something to get off your chest”, might be an odd way to introduce yourself to someone.

He realized he was talking to himself and closed the laptop, because it was obviously well past time for bed. He wondered what time it was in DoeJohn’s time zone, and how many times he could use backburning the flying car as an analogy or allegory for every bad decision SI ever made by the time he woke up.

Tony completely forgot about the chat until two weeks later, fifteen minutes into an eight hour conference. It was during the first of twelve speakers when he pulled out his phone. He’d accessed the chat room on his StarkPad before, so while the smaller phone screen was a minor nuisance, it was easy enough to lurk.

There was a lively debate going on, flooding the main channel with something that wasn’t even about him. Apparently, Elon Musk and his SpaceX sent his midlife crisis - a Tesla - into space. Half the chat was reveling in the achievement, and even Tony begrudgingly respected his gravitas. The other group was focused on the dramatics of it all because, “couldn’t those resources have been directed elsewhere?”

His eye instinctively sought out DoeJohn's name, but he wasn't logged on. He was curious what his opinion on all this would be, but the thought faded away when he clicked on **#brainstorming** and found a lively conversation about robots.

Time passed quicker then and soon they were breaking for lunch. Tony put his phone away and picked through the small plate assortment the conference had catered. SI had sent him here to push the new arc reactor advancements because, frankly, no one else understood it quite like he did. It was fine, he liked talking about his work, and the people here at least understood it unlike the media or politicians. Lunch rolled into his own presentation and before he knew it he was back in his seat, pulling out his phone again.

Still. Talking. About. Musk.

This was _his_ chat room, what the hell. Weren’t there moderators?

He was about to say something when DoeJohn’s name popped up as typing…

**DoeJohn**

It needs to be noted, he achieved the promise of a flying car. In a way.

Tony barked out a laugh. His neighbor started to shoot a glare at him but then checked herself when she noticed who he was. Tony barely registered her because he was typing out a message.

**TheMechanic**

*Who* at SI promised you a flying car?

**DoeJohn**

The 1943 Stark Expo promised me. I don’t think we’ve met, Mechanic.

He snorted, split screened his chat to open a browser and search for the Expo in question. As that was loading he clicked back to the chat. A couple of people had continued the conversation, this time about the Stark Expo of forever ago instead of Elon Musk, so he figured that was an improvement. DoeJohn hadn’t said anything, as if he’d been waiting for Tony’s reply.

**TheMechanic**

I haven’t been around long.

 **DoeJohn**  
Ah, mostly lurking?

Someone was curious... or maybe Tony was projecting the note of suspicion.

**TheMechanic**

Do the kids still call it that these days?

**DoeJohn**

That’s what they told me it was called a few weeks ago when I joined. But then again, I’m not *The* Mechanic.

**TheMechanic**

A damn good one at that

**DoeJohn**

*The* Mechanic implied that

Tony snorted again, the annoyed lady next to him shifted in her seat.

**TheMechanic**

What can I say, I have issues with modesty.

**DoeJohn**

Can’t say I can relate

**TheMechanic**

Well yeah, you’re walking around as “unidentified”

A pause. Then,

**DoeJohn**

Would you like to hear my rant about the flying car?

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Oh god, please no.

 **Brobot**  
didn’t we make that a bannable offense?

**DoeJohn**

Fine, fine. But there *is* a car in space right now, so it can’t be classified as Off-Topic today.

The chat moved on, but now Tony was really curious. He clicked on DoeJohn’s username and saw a PM icon, penning out a message without much of a thought because, yes, he found he did want to hear DoeJohn’s rant.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

 **TheMechanic** :

So, tell me about this obsession. And how it originated from a Stark Expo.

Bucky stared at the message. The fan above clicked with each turn, and it was still uncomfortably hot. The plastic chair dug into the back of his thighs as he shifted on his seat and reread the message. He’d never received a Private Message before. He took a deep breath against a hot flood of anxiety - there was no way this user knew any more about him than anyone else in the chat room. ‘Private’ didn’t mean ‘Personal’.

But the fact remained that if he kept chatting in SIdeas, without answering TheMechanic, it may prove suspicious. This user may start to question. Bucky didn’t need any questions.

He couldn’t tell this random stranger that he was actually _at_ the Stark Expo where Howard Stark had promised the future his many wonders, including a flying car. Even for the internet that was pretty crazy. The stranger wouldn’t believe him anyway--it would make him over ninety years old--and in the unlikely event that he did, it would definitely lead to problems.

**DoeJohn**

My dad went. Told me about it.

**TheMechanic**

Your dad? Wow, chat runs older than I expected.

Bucky cursed and the lady behind the cashier glared his way under bright fluorescent lights.

**DoeJohn**

I meant my Grandad. Typo.

That was...believable? Right. Bucky shifted again. He’d never communicated so directly with anyone on this platform, or any internet platform, before and he felt like there was this spotlight on him. But when he saw TheMechanic’s reply, Bucky relaxed.

**TheMechanic**

Oh, well, now I feel old because I’m pretty sure my dad was there - or maybe the year after? Here I thought I’d found the other Gen Xer in a sea of millenials.

**TheMechanic**

So tell me about this obsession that’s been practically banned from chat.

**DoeJohn**

Funny. No one’s ever told me I made them feel young before.

**DoeJohn**

I tend to go on this rant… sometimes.

Bucky sighed aloud. Then, after a moment of silence channeled his inner Brobot.

**DoeJohn**

*sigh*

**TheMechanic**

Haha

**TheMechanic**

That bad, huh?

**DoeJohn**

It’s that..

**DoeJohn**

We have such horrible things from back then. A-bomb, war on a world scale.

Bucky stopped typing because he knew he was being, what the chat called, a downer, but it was so frustrating sometimes, to see how much had changed but how everything still seemed to be used as a weapon.

**TheMechanic**

So the least they could do was create the flying car.

**DoeJohn**

Exactly.

**TheMechanic**

I see the logic. I think Howard Stark saw it as a vanity project.

**DoeJohn**

I heard that what Howard Stark knew how to do best, was showboat and follow the coin.

**TheMechanic**

I’ve heard that too.

Bucky did not want to be talking about Howard. He was on here to be anonymous and… he should never have answered this private message to begin with. It was too personal, even under the guise of anonymity. Sure, the Starks were common knowledge. Nothing they were saying couldn’t be found on the internet. Yet, still. Bucky knew he was playing with fire.

The fan ticked overhead.

**DoeJohn**

I gotta go. Meeting a friend for breakfast.

**TheMechanic**

Oh -- cool. Later!

**TheMechanic**

Breakfast? Where do you live it's like 5pm here… or 17:00, whatever these Europeans call it.

Bucky Xed out without responding or even returning to chat to wrap up his earlier conversations. The internet cafe seemed frozen in time; an itch rolled under his skin like he was being watched. He’d been seen. The monitor glared, open to the desktop. He logged off his session and sat there staring. Who was the person on the other side that now knew a name connected to him, knew the name had knowledge about Howard Stark and the 1943 Expo?

It was early, the heat of the day still hid behind the mountain chill, and Bucky wandered to the plaza around the corner. There was a cafe there, and he ordered a cafecito and went to sip it by the fountain. It was what everyone else in the town did every morning, and since he’d started doing the same, people smiled when they passed him by.

He blended. It worked.

Time passed. Hiding in plain sight was more boring than anyone ever expected. He had an odd job scheduled for that afternoon. An office building needed an extra hand to move their desks and filing cabinets across town. Then in the evening, he’d work the kitchen at the hostel to earn his night's stay.

It was a system; it worked. He thought of the internet cafe and its ticking fan and all the people on the other end that knew little bits about him.

He resolved not to go again.

A week went by, and Bucky found himself drinking his cafecito in front of the internet cafe, instead of the fountain. The thing was, here he could smile and blend, but a part of him missed _people_. He’d always had a team - except when he was an asset, but that was a blur of missions and violence then back in the cryogenics chamber - and before a team, he had Steve. Whether he liked it or not, a part of him was used to company. There was also an itch in his veins reminding him he hadn’t been able to check if anyone was on his tail for days, he hadn’t been able to monitor social media images or check his six.

He finished his cafecito and tossed the paper cup into the nearby waste basket before pushing away from the bench and heading through the open doorway of the internet cafe.

“Didn’t think we’d see you again,” the woman behind the cash register commented with a thick Spanish accent. “You came for weeks and weeks and then you disappear.”

“Well, Señora...”

“Flores. Señora Flores.”

“Muchos gustos, Señora Flores. And they say there’s a benefit in disconnecting.”

She chuckled. “Not for my business. And who are you? You came in here everyday and say nothing. Only greet me now?” She tsked but underneath it there was a smile flickering at the corner of her lips. “Very poor manners.”

Bucky shook his head, remembering all the times his mama whacked him on the back of the head for failing to introduce himself to one of her friends downtown. He gave her the name he’d given for all his odd jobs downtown. “John.”

“John, yes. Good boy. Now go chat with your friends in that room you go into.”

And here he thought he was being subtle. He pulled his baseball cap over his head and did his best to shake off the nerves crawling under his skin. Just because people knew things about _John_ didn’t mean they knew things about Bucky. John lived in Central America, slept in a hostel, he always wore long sleeves and a glove, he took odd jobs and spent his mornings in an internet cafe chatting in a science chat room.

He pulled out the plastic classroom chair that John always sat in, and after twenty minutes of checking his sources and counter surveillance, he logged onto the SI Chat without even pretending to browse the internet.

The first thing he noticed was a red notification icon that he’d never seen before. The number 4 bouncing on top of TheMechanic. Something about it made his leg shake, his mind flooded with horrible possibilities, that TheMechanic had guessed everything, that they knew who Bucky really was, or... No. Maybe they weren’t a person at all, maybe they were Hydra luring him back, or SHIELD seeking him out, or something even more nefarious that he hadn’t even confronted before.

He took a deep breath before clicking **TheMechanic’s** PM.

**TheMechanic** _eleven days ago:_

_dontpanictesla.jpeg [an image of the tesla flying car orbiting earth]_

**TheMechanic** _eleven days ago:_

Hope you’re having a good day. Did you see that argument in **#brainstorming** about polymers. How could they not consider the emerging designs out of Norway?

 **TheMechanic** _ten days ago:_

Hope I didn’t scare you off

 **TheMechanic** _nine days ago:_

I thought maybe you could sass at me some more.

Bucky snorted, and his fingers moved without a thought.

**DoeJohn**

You were hoping I’d sass at you?

He didn’t receive an answer right away, which wasn’t unusual, since TheMechanic had last sent a message in chat over an hour ago, so he went into the channels and caught up on who was there and what he’d missed. Apparently, a lot. For one thing, TheMechanic _really_ disliked Elon Musk.

**MarkX:**

The new StarkPad is cool but do we really need more tablet advancements? Where are my holoscreens. I see them all over Stark Tower and in corporate conventions across the globe but largescale commercial? It’s time.

**g33kski11z:**

It would cost the consumer too much

**Brobot:**

supply and demand, it’ll eventually lower in price.

**MarkX:**

What like the google watch? Isn’t that still hundreds and hundreds of dollars. These things “normalize” to a certain degree and let me tell you, that price is still too much for me.

**DoeJohn**

people will pay an enormous large amount for electronics

**TheMechanic**

He’s returned.

Bucky froze. He could read so many different tones into those two words but for some reason perturbed won out. He thought about how to reply, but there was really only one option.

**DoeJohn**

Guess I was missed.

**_TheMechanic_ ** _is typing.._ then it stopped. Another few seconds went by then,

**TheMechanic**

Maybe.

Bucky felt the corner of his mouth twitch into a smirk.

**DoeJohn**

Chat is full of people like me.

**TheMechanic**

Most of this chat is too damn overeager. Bunson The Burner nearly burst from excitement during the StarkPad announcements, and trust me I’ve been watching the conference _very_ closely and they aren’t that exciting.

**Bunson The Burner**

Hey!

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

TheMechanic is completely right and you know it

**DoeJohn**

Haha

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

 **TheMechanic** :

Yes. I was hoping you’d sass at me.

**DoeJohn**

That’s an odd thing to hope for.

**The Mechanic**

False

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

The StarkPad is just old tech repackaged. And, Bunson -let’s be real. you spend more time focusing on Tony Stark’s ass then the tablet anyway.

**Brobot**

he really likes to watch the streams when Stark makes announcements.

**TheMechanic**

Oh yeah? Bunson’s got a bit of a crush?

**DoeJohn**

Please don’t ask him that. I’ve seen Bunson’s gif spam of Tony Stark too many times, and I’ve only been on chat for a few weeks.

**TheMechanic**

:open_mouth: There’s a gif spam? I _have_ to see this.

**DoeJohn**

Oh god, not you too. You another Starkette?

**TheMechanic**

What’s wrong with that? You don’t think he’s cute?

Bucky snorted. He’d seen pictures of Tony Stark and he knew that objectively the man was good looking. The Starks had great genes and that included both brains and brawns. Subjectively, Tony Stark may or may not want to murder Bucky depending on how much the Avengers knew about his time as the Winter Soldier. But he didn’t need to go into that with TheMechanic. That’s not what he was asking about anyway.

**DoeJohn**

He’s alright.

**TheMechanic**

Something tells me that from you, that’s a huge compliment.

**DoeJohn**

You aren’t wrong.

**TheMechanic**

ahahahah - i see right through you’re monosyllabic act and into the gooey-center buried within.

**Bunson the Burner**

lol

**DoeJohn**

If you say so

And because TheMechanic wasn’t wrong and he felt like being a little bit like an ass he added

**DoeJohn**

:upsidedown_smiley:

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Ha!

**TheMechanic**

Oh, you sassy-ass-y.

He had no idea how to respond to that so he tabbed over to another channel and jumped into a conversation about adapting military advancements for use by the citizen population. Only a few moments and TheMechanic followed him there with a passionate opinion of his own and the afternoon flew by until Bucky was needed for mechanic work at the garage across town. Right after he said his goodbyes, but before he logged off, his PM with TheMechanic chimed.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

 **TheMechanic** :

And you delivered.

**DoeJohn**

I have no idea what you’re talking about.

**TheMechanic**

Uh huh

**TheMechanic**

Later :kiss_face:

Bucky felt his face flush as he quickly shutdown the computer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muchos Gustos - Nice to meet you


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Update day! Thanks for reading!

Tony left behind the breezy, Mediterranean town for rainy London. It was the second conference on his month long tour. The rain bore down on him every time he left the hotel and the oppressively cloudy days turned into chilly nights much too early. None of it mattered; all Tony really found himself caring about were the moments he could slip his phone from his pocket or close his hotel door against the world and pull up chat.

It maybe, probably, was starting to become a problem.

The thing was, no one in chat knew him, not really. So when he offered an opinion, or a joke, or some sass, he knew their reactions were genuine. He found he had a peculiar delight in how many times they’d called his jokes lame.

And then there was DoeJohn. John. Tony wondered if that was really his name far too often. Because John knew him as TheMechanic or Eddie, because Tony had lied to him and told him that was his name. It wasn’t _completely_ a lie. He’d always liked that nickname since it worked for both his middle name--Edward--and Edwin, Jarvis’ first name. As a kid he always thought of it as something that connected him to the older man, as more than the Stark family caretaker. So DoeJohn could be John or it could be an alias, but one thing was for sure: there was a rush of excitement every time his phone chimed with a notification from their PM, one that he never thought could come from someone he’d never even banged. Or hell, even seen.

He wondered what John looked like a lot. 

Tony opened chat during the conference’s lunch break, even though he knew he should be confirming Pepper’s travel plans to London. But he hadn’t been online all day, and it was almost so late in John’s time zone that he was going to miss him entirely.

PRIVATE MESSAGE:

**DoeJohn**

Look at this -

[https://sciencing.com/uses-magnets-daily-life.html]

**DoeJohn**

But then also this -

[https://www.youtube.com/watch?v-flying-with-magnets]

Then, shortly after he logged on:

**DoeJohn**

Thought I’d miss you today.

Tony smirked at his phone. A simple sentence was able to reassure him that he wasn’t alone in this digital..friendship...? Is that what this was? He knew he thought about DoeJohn sometimes when he was logged off, and apparently John thought of him too.

**TheMechanic**

If my colleagues had anything to do with it, you would have. This conference is brutal. The only reason I was able to slip away was because I’m supposed to be coordinating with my friend about her travel plans.

**DoeJohn**

That sounds fun. She joining you at the conference?

**TheMechanic**

Yeah, she knows more about the annual financial presentation than I do.

Tony had intentionally been keeping his responses vague whenever it came to the topics or locations of his conferences. The chat room was very carefully following the Global Conference on Biotechonolgy, and one little slip could make it obvious that he was there. A part of him, one that wrapped hope under layers of recklessness, wanted to tell John who he was. For real. If only for no other reason than it would be a hilarious way to best him in an argument about the inner workings of SI. But mostly because he worried that the longer he let the secret grow between them, the larger the fallout would be if the truth was ever revealed.

But, no. He was online and that meant anonymity. John never prodded to learn more about him, and Tony followed his lead. Though, being Tony, it was hard for him not to delve into, well, himself.

**TheMechanic**

She’s actually my ex, but we get along gloriously now.

**_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing…._ The typing stopped, and then, after a moment. **_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing.._

**DoeJohn**

Sounds like there’s a story there

**TheMechanic**

You’re not wrong. :wink_face:

Tony wondered what John had been writing the first time around. They’d both openly talked about how attractive Tony Stark was. Even the memory of that conversation made Tony grin into his phone. It was definitely not a chore to bait DoeJohn into those little confessions. That, plus the flirtatious undertone Tony added into their conversation, and he’d been sensing John adding as well--Was he curious about Tony’s sexuality but too afraid to ask? Just the thought made Tony shift in his seat and wish his lunch break was longer, so he could go back to his hotel and have this conversation _there._

**TheMechanic**

We work together. That’s why she’s coming out, but we’re still pretty good friends.

**DoeJohn**

Cool

**TheMechanic**

Yeah - she is pretty cool.

And because Tony could never help himself.

**TheMechanic**

Legs for days, too.

**DoeJohn**

:rollingeyes_face: I see why she’s your ex, she’s probably too classy for you.

**TheMechanic**

Awe, he has fangs. No need to be jealous.

**DoeJohn**

With compliments like that, who needs people hollering on the street? I’m not jealous, just judging you a little more than before. :tongue_face:

Tony barked out a laugh so loud a gentleman on his phone near the window shot him a glare.

**TheMechanic**

I could blatantly objectify you too, if I had any idea what you looked like.

**_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing…._ It stopped. Tony had to go soon and the screen remained blank. Had he freaked John out? This was the first time either of them had mentioned the other’s appearance. Or maybe it was because Tony was flirting with him. His heart was racing, he’d thought they’d been on the same page when it came to teasing. Maybe-- ** _DoeJohn_ ** _is typing.._

**DoeJohn**

So you’re bisexual?

Relief flooded Tony because John was interested, and interest meant that Tony wasn’t imagining the whole thing that was happening between them.

**TheMechanic**

So formal

**TheMechanic**

You google that term yourself?

**DoeJohn**

Shut up.

A moment passed and neither of them typed anything. Tony assumed that meant John wasn’t going to say anything else and it was his time to answer his question.

**TheMechanic**

And yeah, I'm

[byebyebye.gif]

**_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing…_ disappeared. Then reappeared a moment later.

**DoeJohn**

Sorry if that was..weird? Asking you like that.

**TheMechanic**

Nah - it’s cool. I’m pretty open about it.

Tony wanted to ask John about himself, but something stopped him. Maybe the lull in the conversation, how it was obvious that DoeJohn wasn’t as open about this as Tony. But there was something else he’d been wanting to say, and he felt a bit reckless, still riding on the high of John caring about his sexuality one way or another.

**TheMechanic**

I’ve really enjoyed talking to you these past few weeks. I’m glad we met.

**DoeJohn**

Yeah

**DoeJohn**

That was surprisingly genuine, coming from you

**TheMechanic**

Oh fuck off.

**DoeJohn**

No

**DoeJohn**

But yeah, me too.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the love on this fic so far. I hope you like this next chapter! 
> 
> Happy reading and Happy Holidays to all those who celebrate! <3

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**DoeJohn**

I’m disportionately excited about this. I am aware.

**TheMechanic**

It’s cute. You had me at pigs.

**DoeJohn**

You _know_ there’s more to it than pigs. They’re cave paintings of pigs that date back 40,000 years.

**TheMechanic**

Meat’s probably turned, then.

**DoeJohn**

:rollingeyes_face:

**TheMechanic**

I’m kidding. It’s really interesting, you’re right.

**DoeJohn**

I know it's not rocket science or reactor energy but it’s...idk, settling to think that even 40,000 years ago we were leaving paintings of things in caves, leaving our mark on the world. Probably, out of boredom. And we still do that. Graffiti, museums. One of my friends used to draw, and some guy’s friend 40,000 years ago used to draw too. And they just uncovered it on some island in a cave in Indonesia.

**TheMechanic**

I think that’s the most you’ve ever typed in one sitting.

**DoeJohn**

Oh, stuff it.

**TheMechanic**

No I’m serious. Did you get a double cafecito today?

**DoeJohn**

Would that just be a cafe?

**DoeJohn**

Probably.

**TheMechanic**

In all seriousness, I get what you’re saying. And I agree that it’s cool _and_ science. g33kski11z is an idiot for knocking you from #brainstorming to #off_topic.

**DoeJohn**

Thank you

**TheMechanic**

Anytime, boo.

~~~

**TheMechanic**

He’s an idiot

**DoeJohn**

Yup.

**TheMechanic**

Why is he still allowed in chat?

**DoeJohn**

They don’t ban people for being idiots.

**TheMechanic**

Well, they should.

~~~

**DoeJohn**

Thought I’d miss you, leaving for a job in a bit.

**TheMechanic**

Oh god, what are you getting into now?

**DoeJohn**

Very dangerous work.

**DoeJohn**

I’m going to walk Señora Garcia’s dog.

**TheMechanic**

Oooh, living on the edge.

**DoeJohn**

You know me, a thrill seeker.

**TheMechanic**

Hey - you’re an expat. That’s considered a bit thrilling.

**DoeJohn**

If you say so.

~~~

**TheMechanic**

You’re completely ridiculous.

**DoeJohn**

...no one’s ever called me that before

**TheMechanic**

Really?

**TheMechanic**

Everyone I’ve ever known has called me that at one point or another

**DoeJohn**

Well.

**DoeJohn**

You’re not *not* completely ridiculous.

**TheMechanic**

You say the sweetest things

~~~

Bucky knew he probably had outstanding messages in Eddie’s PM, but he wasn’t going to be able to check them anytime soon. He could barely move his arm, had to stop swaying it with every step because even that small movement caused pain to radiate up and down to where metal met skin.

He mostly kept his arm hidden behind layers of clothes and a glove. No one had asked questions. But now they saw how he winced in pain in the middle of his farmhand shift. He had to cradle the damn thing when the first sparks of pain shot up his shoulder to his neck. Heat ran down his back and it hurt. A lot.

It stayed that way, was still that way hours later, when he finally felt like he’d be able to type without causing pain that’d white out his vision.

W E L C O M E T O T H E F U T U R E

Greetings! Here you will find like-minded individuals looking to poke and prod and question. The channel guide will help you find your way around.

He logged on and watched chat a bit. They were discussing physics, and something about the way **TheMechanic** could explain any detail of seemingly any subject never failed to impress him.

As he expected, he had a couple missed messages in their PM, which was the norm these days. Sharing links, daily observations.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

******DoeJohn**

Gonna be typn slow tonite

**_TheMechanic_ ** _is typing…_ appeared immediately.

**TheMechanic**

Everything all right?

**DoeJohn**

Work injury

He immediately regretted his honest answer when he got a barrage of messages in return.

**TheMechanic**

What?

**TheMechanic**

What happened??

**TheMechanic**

Are you okay?

**TheMechanic**

Who are we suing!?

**TheMechanic**

Are you at the hospital?

**DoeJohn**

Eddie - Im fine!

**DoeJohn**

Well not fine. I just hurt my arm

There were going to be follow up questions. With Eddie there always were, but...What did he want to reveal here? How did he want to reveal it? It didn't help that the pain in his arm made it difficult to type this conversation, slowing him down and making each keystroke a challenge.

**TheMechanic**

Like, you broke it?

**DoeJohn**

I have a prosthetic. My arm. Somethings jammin it round myelbow.

He’d never spoken about his arm with anyone, not like this. The closest he got was with the Strike Team, where he had to explain in detail what his arm could do to a person - and only when they’d asked. The fan ticked over head and there were more people in the internet cafe than he’d like, and though the metal arm was still covered, he felt like every eye was on it.

**TheMechanic**

Shit.

**TheMechanic**

Do you have a doctor or a specialist to go to or something?

“Or something,” Bucky mumbled to the computer screen. Right now his ‘or something’ was a sling and a hope that eventually he’d poke at something helpful. 

**TheMechanic**

I’m taking your silence as a no.

**DoeJohn**

I havnt had to look for a doc since I moved

Bucky bullshitted. He knew he couldn’t tell Eddie that his titanium bionic arm needed more than just a doctor.

**TheMechanic**

I’m...um. This may be awkward.

**DoeJohn**

Justsay it. Convos awkward already.

**TheMechanic**

I’m an engineer. And I’ve worked with prosthetics. Maybe if you take a photo and send it to me I can help you out?

**TheMechanic**

IDK just an idea…

Bucky felt an itching under his skin like he was being watched, one he’d felt on and off when Eddie learned things, real things, about him--that he was an expat, that he was living in a Spanish speaking country. But now it came back with a vengeance, made him want to log off from chat without saying a word, like he did after their first interaction. He had no idea why, either. Bucky knew he wasn’t going to send a photo to Eddie; he couldn’t risk anything, especially his arm, being on the internet.

A part of him trusted Eddie. That was what had him frozen in his plastic chair, nothing but the tick of the fan reminding him to breathe.

**DoeJohn**

You must be 1 helluva engineer to help through the screen.

He deflected because deflection was all he had, other than turning off the whole machine entirely. Eddie was usually good at understanding when he didn’t want to talk about something.

**TheMechanic**

Try me! It’s like a challenge. I know I can do it, I want _you_ to know I can too.

**DoeJohn**

I dont know what you’re imaginin, but Im not 1 of those fancy expats w a smartphone attached to my hand. If I find a camera & a printer & a scanner - Ill send you one.

**TheMechanic**

:open_mouth: Or you can give me your address and I’ll mail you a StarkPhone.

**DoeJohn**

What?

Bucky snorted, because that had to be a joke. Eddie always seemed to know how to make him feel a little better about things.

**TheMechanic**

Uh, nevermind.

**TheMechanic**

Forget I said that.

**DoeJohn**

Forgotten.

**DoeJohn**

Look - I have to go. Gotta rest my arm.

**DoeJohn**

Thanks for the offer, tho.

It was a lot more than anyone had done for him in a while.

**TheMechanic**

Yeah, yeah. No problem at all, least I could do.

**DoeJohn**

Appreciate it all the same.

**TheMechanic**

And if you find a camera, open offer.

**DoeJohn**

Right

**DoeJohn**

Bye

**TheMechanic**

Bye


	6. Part 2 - Offline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone - Happy 2019! This is coming out a bit later than I expected, but that's the holidays for you! :D I hope you enjoy!

**PART TWO**

**Offline**

* * *

And once again Tony Stark proved to himself why he couldn’t have nice things.

Not that **DoeJohn** was a _thing_. On the other end of that screen was a person. A man, who was from America but lived in a Central American mountain town. He travelled between a few cities, but spent every night in a hostel. Tony had no idea what he looked like. He’d pictured him as every race, every age, a canvas that constantly shifted as John filled in little clues. He didn’t need to know what he looked like to _know_ him and he knew something was up. Days gone by and it’s been radio silence from his online friend.

Tony walked through the empty common room of the tower. He was finally back in New York, but it seemed as if half of the tower’s occupants were out looking for the Winter Soldier. He had plenty of time to be online.

W E L C O M E T O T H E F U T U R E

Greetings! Here you will find like minded individuals looking to poke and prod and question. The channel guide will help you find your way around.

 **#general** \- For everything and anything

 **#brainstorming** \- For talking out ideas

 **#designs_and_diagrams** \- For uploading media files

 **#memes** \- For the love of Science, let’s keep them contained.

He clicked on **#general**

**Excelsior13**

Nah, I haven’t seen it yet. I’m excited too.

**Brobot**

It’s all right. I won’t spoil it for you.

**MarkX**

I am so over school.

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

We need a #rants channel.

**StarkerStreaking**

you say that every day, and still there isn’t one. you know what they say about repeating the same mistake twice.

**TheMechanic**

anyone catch that press conference this afternoon?

**Brobot**

the one about the stocks? Boring.

**StarkerStreaking**

Yea, I agree. If it isn’t R&D I really don’t care.

Tony snorted. If only Pepper bought that line when he said it. Though, let’s face it, these people weren’t Tony Stark. For some reason that made him miss John even more.

He clicked on **#brainstorming**.

There was a lively chat going on about holoscreen technology, and he fell into the conversation until the alarm for the samples he’d been scanning went off.

~~~

Later that night Tony was in the common floor of the tower when the elevator chimed. He hadn’t expected Steve to walk through the doors. The supersoldier stopped short when he saw Tony, doing a double check at the floor number glowing on the elevator doors, the movement so quick Tony barely caught it.

“Penthouse is still under construction,” Tony explained. “I’ve been staying in one of the guest rooms on our common floor.”

“Ah, makes sense.”

“It’s good to see you.” Tony felt like he should stand, but he’d been reading on the couch in his own living room. Steve was the one hovering, his eyes flashing with surprise when he heard Tony’s words.

“It’s good to see you, too.”

“Any luck?”

“I see.” Steve left out a rough breath. “So, you know too?” he asked. Then, when Tony just stared, he continued. “About my search for Bucky?”

Tony could only laugh in his face. “Cap, everyone knows you’re looking for Barnes. It’s one of your worst kept secrets.”

Steve narrowed his eyes, and Tony felt like he was trying to read his mind. “Well, what do you think about the whole thing?”

The turn in conversation, the seriousness to Steve’s tone made Tony straighten. “What do you mean?”

Steve crossed the room, walking to the kitchen and grabbing a glass from the cabinet. He filled it with water from the dispenser on the fridge door and took a long sip before answering Tony. He wondered if Steve was stalling, or thirsty from coming back from the gym.

“If I found him. What do you think should happen to him?” Steve asked after a moment.

“ _Have_ you found him?”

“What? No.” The words were too confused and automatic to be anything other than the truth. “I have a couple leads but… no. Is there a reason you aren’t answering my question, Tony?”

Tony pushed himself to straighten on the couch, running everything he knew about the Winter Soldier through his mind, everything he suspected the man did while under Hydra’s control, and everything he’d done before they got their hands on him. “He knows you--knew you...He saved you from the Potomac. I think you have the best chance of helping him. But he’d need to be confined, at least until you knew how dangerous he was, but the tower has the means of watching him and the benefit of keeping him close to you.”

Steve put the glass on the counter a little too loudly. “You’d let him stay here?”

Now it was Tony’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Is there any reason I shouldn’t?”

“Hydra’s had him, you know that. I haven’t seen him--You know what they did to his mind and how he can be used as a weapon.”

“Every one of us in this tower could be used as a weapon. Most of us have been at one time or another.”

“You really believe he deserves a chance?”

“Why do you keep sounding so surprised that I have mercy and am capable of understanding? Don’t you remember that I’m trying redeem myself from making large scale weapons of war? What they did to your friend was horrible and if you say the man you know, a man you still see in the Winter Soldier, won’t commit those horrible acts now that he is free of Hydra’s hold? Well, who am I to say any different?”

“He wouldn’t. Not Bucky. He wasn’t like that. Even when I used to go out and pick fights, he’d always be the one to step in and stop it. He joined the war and did his duty, but evil was never inside him." Steve let out a relieved breath, deflated backwards into the counter, and pinned Tony with a genuine smile. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony rolled his eyes against the authenticity of the moment. “Just remember this conversation the next time I go mad scientist.”

~~~

He was still thinking of his conversation with Steve later that night. He was on his StarkPad once more, but knew John wouldn’t be in the chat room at this time, so he kept surfing the internet mindlessly instead of going there.

Tony kept wondering, if John knew about the things he’d done, the destructive forces that carry his family name, would he give Tony a chance? Would he want to be friends with a person like that? Would he even consider wanting more? Not that Tony thought that was the direction his online friendship was going, but he did wonder. And that made him ask himself, did it take becoming evil to sympathize with it?

But Cap had never been evil. At least, not as far as Tony knew. And he was giving them all a second chance. So maybe if John did find out he would forgive--John who hadn’t been online in days, John who had fled when Tony asked for a picture.

He closed his eyes against the glare from the StarkPad and the last thought he had before he fell asleep was that maybe John had evils too. And that he’d kind of like to meet them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all the love you've shown this fic so far. Every kudos, comment, and bookmark is savored and appreciated. I also wanted to let you know that I'll be out of town meeting my new niece(!!) this week, so I won't be updating again until after the 15th. (I'll miss you!) And now onto the chapter:

“Hi, Sarah.”

“Hey, John.” The middle aged woman didn’t even look up from her paperback as Bucky walked through the front door of the hostel and to her reception desk.

“Carlos in the kitchen?”

“Yeah, you missed the dinner rush, but if you head back, you can relieve him of the cleaning and then call it a night.”

It was her way of saying they’d be square, he could keep his upper bunk in the six person cabin for another evening because he continued to help out. He walked through the hostel’s reception into the courtyard that all the cabins surrounded. He turned towards the kitchen, eyeing the window of the next door room that kept their one guest computer.

He’d been offline for five days.

He followed Señora Flores’ advice and disconnected for a little while, but it hadn’t settled his mind. All it did was give him more time to think about everything, about Steve, about the many organizations and governments looking for him, and about **TheMechanic** and what he must be thinking.

He thought of Eddie a lot, spent a long time watching the mental film of **TheMechanic** logging into the SIdeas chat room and not seeing Bucky’s username. He imagined him fretting about it; he imagined him not caring at all.

The light to the computer room was shut off; it was empty. It would be so easy...He pushed open the door to the kitchen and tried to shake away the tempting idea of using the computer all at the same time.

“John!” Carlos’ smile held all the relief and exhaustion of a man that just finished serving the dinner shift. “Missed you tonight.”

“Sorry, man.” Bucky was already tying his hair back, his arm twinging a bit as he gathered together the loose strands, but he still took the cleaning rag from Carlos. “I had a job two towns over, but I got this covered. Go to bed.”

Carlos was out the door within minutes, and Bucky was left face to face with a stack of dishes and a floor in need of mopping. He started at the sink, pulling on the rubber cleaning gloves.

Like with any mindless task, his thoughts wandered. The dark window next door; the available computer. He hadn’t talked to **TheMechanic** in days and he didn’t quite know why. Eddie asked him a simple question, and it wasn’t like that was a new thing. Sure, it involved sending an image of himself over the internet. Of his _arm,_ one of his most identifiable features, but to Eddie it was just a way to help.

He wanted to make things right, felt like he owed Eddie an explanation, at least. He made his way through the dishes, his mind reminding him over and over of the room next door, with a computer waiting for him.

He’d never used it before. He’d been too afraid that someone would see him slip up, find some way to see where he’d visited online, what he’s searched for, see through the lengths he went through to search for information about himself, without making it appear like that was his goal.

But right now, no one was awake or around and he wasn’t going to be searching about himself, he was going to be going in the chat room.

He moved to cleaning the floors while considering his options. He could wait till morning, go to the cafe like always, but now that he was entertaining the idea of talking to **TheMechanic** , he wanted to do it _now._

Fuck, usually Bucky was good at impulse control. He barely managed a thorough mopping of the floor before he was pulling off his rubber gloves and swinging through the doorway of the next room over. He closed and locked the door, left the lights off, and booted up the computer. It went as fast as the the one at the internet cafe, thankfully, and he was online in a few minutes.  


W E L C O M E T O T H E F U T U R E

Greetings! Here you will find like minded individuals looking to poke and prod and question. The channel guide will help you find your way around.

 **#general** \- For everything and anything

**TheMechanic**

I agree with you in *theory*, but like always you’re forgetting to factor in the CBA. Is this a financially sound engineering investment?

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Ugh

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Why are you always so rooted in reality.

**TheMechanic**

Hahahaha

**TheMechanic**

Trust me you’re the only person who's ever called me that.

**TheMechanic**

But the point still stands. You asked why they weren’t researching Mars colonization and that’s why.

Bucky watched him chat and wondered if he’d noticed “DoeJohn” appear online. Before he could start wondering if Eddie was purposely ignoring him like a schoolchild, he cut in.

**DoeJohn**

Same exact story with the flying car.

**TheMechanic**

Oh no. Don’t you even start with me @DoeJohn *shakes_fist*

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Hahahaha

**Bunson The Burner**

Always with the damn flying car

Bucky laughed but it was strained. He took a deep breath and clicked to his friends list. Ignoring the fact that there were no messages waiting, and that their last conversation was about his arm, didn’t make this any easier.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**DoeJohn**

Hey

**TheMechanic**

Do my eyes deceive me?

**TheMechanic**

Is that my old friend John?

**DoeJohn**

Har Har

**TheMechanic**

You’ve aged so much.

**DoeJohn**

You can’t even see me.

**TheMechanic**

Is that a gray hair?

**DoeJohn**

It’s only been a couple days.

**TheMechanic**

It’s been 129 hours

**TheMechanic**

That’s not a *you* thing, I keep track of numbers really, really, *really* well.

**DoeJohn**

Ha - got it. So a couple days plus some change.

Bucky started writing, ‘Why do you care?’ but something made him pause because…. He realized he was worried. **TheMechanic** could send back ‘You’re right, you don’t owe me a thing.’ or worse, ‘I don’t.’

Because Bucky knew what called him to the computer tonight, what made staying away from Eddie so difficult. Bucky wanted him to care, for this to mean something. More than it could actually mean, given their circumstances.

**TheMechanic**

It’s cool. :smile_face: Missed you though.

Relief. So much relief.

**DoeJohn**

Yeah - guess I did too.

**TheMechanic**

LOL you guess? Didn’t miss me much if you were able to stay away for 129 hours.

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he typed out the one thing he probably shouldn’t say.

**DoeJohn**

I don’t like images of myself online.

A pause, a moment too long, and Bucky sat in the dark room not breathing until he heard the chime of Eddie’s reply.

**TheMechanic**

You on the run, hotstuff?

**DoeJohn**

Ha - no. General paranoia. Would being on the run make me hot?

**TheMechanic**

Eh, I imagine you hot either way.

Bucky snorted.

**TheMechanic**

You can’t tell me you don’t do the same to me.

**DoeJohn**

Hmmm....

**DoeJohn**

If you say so.

Another pause, and Bucky knew whatever Eddie said next was going to cut their banter off and a part of him missed it already, because this is what he had missed, what made him come back to the internet cafe, week after week.

**TheMechanic**

I’m sorry if I spooked you.

**DoeJohn**

You didn’t

He lied. He knew Eddie would see through it too.

**TheMechanic**

So you keep saying.

**TheMechanic**

You’re online late for you.

**DoeJohn**

Yeah. Had access. It’s like...lunchtime for you? I never know where you are.

**TheMechanic**

Hey! Do I have a surprise for you!

**TheMechanic**

[screenshot_lockscreen_11:37pm.jpeg]

**TheMechanic**

Same timezone!

**TheMechanic**

Well I’m one hour ahead, but still.

Something about it hit him in the gut. They were so close, Bucky had no idea how close, but closer than they’d ever been before.

**DoeJohn**

Would you look at that.

**DoeJohn**

Now we’re both up too late.

**TheMechanic**

Speak for yourself, I’m already in bed.

Bucky closed his eyes, trying to guard himself against the slew of mental images of Eddie in bed. His brain supplied them anyway, laid out on his stomach on the sheets, leaning over his StarkPad. Maybe he was wearing nothing but soft sweatpants. Or nothing at all. Maybe he was under his sheets, naked, holding their chat on his phone with the covers pulled around him tight. Like they were cuddling miles apart.

**TheMechanic**

Are...are you in bed?

The intentional use of ellipses meant something, a vulnerability Eddie continuously put into their conversations that Bucky found he clung to late at night.

He wished he could say yes.

**DoeJohn**

No - I’m at the hostel though.

**TheMechanic**

So, close to your bed.

**DoeJohn**

I suppose

**TheMechanic**

I’m sorry I overstepped. About the photo. I do that. A lot.

**DoeJohn**

No. Not at all.

**DoeJohn**

You didn’t.

Bucky clenched the fist of his non injured arm over the keyboard, nervous, but he wanted to reply to Eddie’s vulnerability with one of his own. He couldn’t tell him the truth, but he may be able to share a small fraction of it.

**DoeJohn**

I got a bit weird... It made me start thinking about how much time I’d been spending online, and I guess I needed to step away for a bit.

**DoeJohn**

Next time I’ll give you a heads up.

**TheMechanic**

That’d be nice.

**TheMechanic**

Or just don’t do it again.

**TheMechanic**

:wink_face:

Bucky rolled his eyes but found the weight that had ridden in his chest for the past 129 some odd hours had lifted, and he finished out their convo with a smirk plastered to his face, with a bit of smugness floating at its edges, because **TheMechanic** cared, maybe even as much as Bucky did.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony kept checking his phone. So much so, that eventually those around him started commenting on it. He wasn’t surprised when he heard distinctly familiar heels against the SI lobby tile before a manicured hand was fluttering between his eyes and the phone screen. This was inevitable.

“Usually, you let Rhodey do the prying,” Tony commented, slipping his phone into his suit jacket.

“It’s hard not to pry when you’re a million miles away whenever we speak these days.” She pushed open the door and they walked out to the busy New York sidewalk. The cacophony of sound let him linger in his reply. A car honked as he tried to figure out if he’d really been as distracted as Pepper seemed to think he’d been.

“Hot dogs! Get your hot dogs!” a street vendor screamed. Tony wondered if John had ever had New York street food. Tony thought he’d like it.

Okay, so maybe Pepper had a point.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied as they waited at the crosswalk. He felt his phone buzz against his chest and itched to reach for it. Pepper might’ve heard it because her eyes had narrowed.

“I hope you’re at least getting dick pics for how glued to that phone you are.”

Tony’s jaw dropped; an older woman next to them wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Pepper. Potts. How crude of you.”

“That’s how those long distance, digital relationships work aren’t they?”

“We’re not _in_ a relationship, Pep.”

They made it to the other side of the street and into their favorite deli across from Stark Tower. The city noise completely closed off as the door shut behind them.

“Ah, Tony! Pepper!” George greeted them with a wide smile from behind the counter. “The usual?”

They nodded and slid into a booth by the window. Tony felt his phone buzz again. Neither of them spoke, and the phone buzzed three more times, as if filling in the silence.

“Oh, just answer it.” Pepper waved her hand towards Tony’s pocket, but she sounded more amused than annoyed as she sipped from a water glass George had slid on the table. “You won’t focus on me until you do, I know it. Rhodey was right…”

He grabbed his phone, flicking open the notifications to click on his PM with John. There were nine messages of increasing excitement. Tony guessed he’d seen the announcement he and Pepper had made before their lunch break. SI’s new suite of arc reactor-powered bluetooth technology had made an impact.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**TheMechanic**

Calm down, kid. You’re heating my phone up.

**DoeJohn**

Kid? :eyes_rolling:

**DoeJohn**

Phone’s overheating? You should send yourself a StarkPhone

**TheMechanic**

hah.

**TheMechanic**

And I *have* one. And it’s not actually heating up.

**DoeJohn**

Of course it's not. It’s a StarkPhone

He should'nt have been so satisfied by John’s blatant affinity for his products, but he was anyway.

**TheMechanic**

Says the guy with a flip phone.

**DoeJohn**

I can appreciate the tech without buying into the concept of continuously keeping yourself open to being tracked.

**TheMechanic**

While I sense a rant forthcoming, I unfortunately can’t chat long. I’m at lunch with a friend, and she’s giving me the stink eye. Says my attention has been on my phone too much lately.

**DoeJohn**

:smirk_face:

**TheMechanic**

Oh don’t you start.

A foot connected to his shin and he looked up to see the friend in question giving him a skeptical eyebrow raise. “Look at your face right now.”

“Sorry, no can do, Pep. One of the most heart wrenching tragedies of life is that I can’t see my own face without a mirror.”

Pepper rolled her eyes, and Tony felt like he was bouncing on air. Giddy was the only word he could use to describe it.

**TheMechanic**

We’ll talk about the new arc reactor tech later, I need to eat this sandwich and wipe this expression off my friend’s face.

**DoeJohn**

Lol, good luck.

**DoeJohn**

And bon appetit.

~~~

Tony stared out the window of his penthouse, trying to work out an equation, when his phone buzzed against the table. His smile was automatic at this point, and his mind supplied him with an image of John finishing his cafecito, walking into Señora Flores’ internet cafe and taking his usual spot under the ticking fan he complained so much about.

He wanted to be there with John, his sunglasses keeping away the equator sun. Instead he picked up his phone.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**DoeJohn**

Bunson bought the arc reactor charger &earpods! He’s a student- How?

Tony bit his lip. He could get the whole arc reactor suite of tech for John in a second, if he knew how to reach him. If it wouldn’t look incredibly suspicious that he had access to the suite of tech and the means to give it away for free.

**TheMechanic**

I don’t think we want to know what Bunson gets up to with his free time and money. Probably something indecent with chemistry equipment.

**DoeJohn**

You made me laugh. Senora Flores says hi.

Tony knew so much about John, but he didn’t know the sound of his laugh, and it was so unfair.

**DoeJohn**

Good news/bad news 4 u

**TheMechanic**

Oh?

**DoeJohn**

Job todays at the internet cafe. Covering 4 Senora Flores.

**TheMechanic**

Good news! Internet all day. Whatever will you do?

**DoeJohn**

Type r r rrreally slowly, since bad news - arms still acting up.

Tony gritted his teeth because he _could_ do something about John’s arm, if he could just see it. But John was firm on the no-photo thing, and Tony wasn’t going to push it. But….

**TheMechanic**

Sucks. I can send you websites and walk you through some of the more common prosthetics issues, if you think it would help.

**DoeJohn**

Maybe. Dont u have work?

**TheMechanic**

I’m tinkering in the lab for a bit, but I’m on break from conferences. For now. It’s back to it again next weekend.

**DoeJohn**

Hows the project?

**DoeJohn**

Where u going?

**DoeJohn**

If it’s Costa Rica then you could come fix my arm for me.

Tony stared at his phone. He knew he shouldn’t. “JARVIS, compile a list of conferences in Costa Rica this weekend and send it to me.”

As JARVIS worked, Tony thought. John had stressed over and over that his fear of sending photos had to do with not trusting “the internet” more than not wanting Tony to know what he looked like.

Tony had thought it was an excuse, an elaborate fiction so that John could stay behind the mask of anonymity. But now he was actually offering to meet, like Tony wasn’t the issue at all, but that the rest of the world was. And hell if that wasn’t exactly how he felt about John as well. Unless he was joking? John could’ve just been playing around. 

Too much time was passing, he had to reply.

**TheMechanic**

Are you kidding?

**TheMechanic**

You told me Central America but not which country. I will be in Costa Rica this weekend.

A pause. A moment too long.

**DoeJohn**

What?

**DoeJohn**

Really?

Tony scrolled through the list JARVIS sent him on his StarkPad as he tried not to think about the way his heart was racing, how he had to get through this conversation and out the other end in a way he wanted. What did he want from John?

He knew he wanted to meet John, and he thought John wanted to meet him, too.

Well, he wanted to meet **TheMechanic**. He wasn’t so sure of anything beyond that...

**DoeJohn** _knew_ Stark Industry. He’d know Tony. All this time and--fuck. This could explode. He needed to do the revelation in person, because then, at least, he’d have the benefit of still seeing him in person, knowing the face of the man that walked around with him every day in his pocket. Tony was selfish. And he knew it was easier to control a situation in person. What would John think when he found out? Only one way to know for sure.

**TheMechanic**

Yeah! San Jose - Energy and Conservation in Tropic Environments.

Sure….Tony could blow enough hot air to get through a conversation about that. “JARVIS, book it.”

**DoeJohn**

Wow.

**TheMechanic**

Regret the suggestion?

**DoeJohn**

No.

The answer came right away, not a moment’s hesitation.

**TheMechanic**

Good.

Tony’s heart was racing, he was going to meet John.

**TheMechanic**

See you this weekend then? :smile_face:

**DoeJohn**

:open_mouth:


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Update Day! I hope you enjoy. :D

**_DoeJohn_ **

_If it’s Costa Rica then you could come fix my arm for me._

Bucky stared at the screen.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that. Long after **TheMechanic** signed off he stared at the screen. How could he have created such an opening?

Bucky knew the answer to that question. It was because he trusted **TheMechanic** , whether he wanted to or not, and he knew that there were _very_ few people who knew who Bucky Barnes was, and that he was alive. And his arm really did hurt. It wasn’t letting up, and it was starting to affect his ability to find work. **TheMechanic** could help.

So he threw it out there, on a whim, a fantasy, and now he was on a bus to San Jose.

The air conditioning hit his head dead on, and he shifted in his seat, pulling his hoodie up to fend off the cold. The ride wasn’t long, only a couple hours, and he’d never wished to have a fancy phone more. If he had been on chat this whole time, he’d have Eddie’s snarky humor and familiar presence by his side.

Instead, he had an elderly woman next to him, who kept glaring his way every time he moved. He looked out the window, the green hillside breaking under the gray of a cloudy day. Raindrops hit the window and Bucky repeated their plan: to meet at 3:00pm at the cafe in the Plaza de la Cultura. Bucky would arrive there thirty minutes early and scope out the area, the cafe and all visible vantage points.

Then he would do his best to appear normal in front of the first friend he’d made in decades.

A sign flew by, they were forty miles outside of San Jose. He went over the story of his arm again. He was an expat, **TheMechanic** knew that, and he’d tell Eddie that, before that, he was science experiment. Helped the American government test new technology. That was...believable. After honorably discharging, he made his way down to Central America. It was a logical story.

Hopefully, Eddie knew nothing about the secret tech race between SHIELD and Hydra, and the fact that his arm was all but a beacon of where’d he’d been and who had made it. How much did mainstream scientists and engineers know about either organization and their developments? From his research, not much. It wasn’t much to go on. 

He must’ve sworn under his breath because the lady next to him shushed him, and her glare deepened.

This was a horrible idea.

The bus station was loud as people hurried to and from different terminals. He had forty seven minutes until 3:00 and he started his thirty five minute walk to the Plaza. The air was muggy and carried a drizzle with it, so he kept his hood up as he walked along the sidewalk, passing by hotels and apartments and the happenings of San Jose.

He reached the Plaza; it was larger than he expected, with storefronts all around its edges. He itched to get up high, survey the surroundings before 3:00, and he followed his instinct to walk around the back alley, climb quickly up the fire escape to crouch along the rooftop. He spotted a textile and fruit market across the street, a church with a small bell tower, but no spot higher than the one he stood on, and no one was a visible threat.

The sky above was still crowded with gray clouds, and Bucky took a deep breath and watched the wind push them along the afternoon. He was being silly. **TheMechanic** was an innocent in all this, a busy engineer that had a passion for inventions. He wasn’t setting a trap for Bucky; there were no ulterior motives here.

At 2:50, a dark car with tinted windows pulled up along the avenue. It attracted attention despite its attempt to look discrete. A man slid out of the car in a sleek suit and dark sunglasses. He was speaking into his phone loudly enough to draw the gaze of the people around him.

Was that Eddie?

The man from chat that always had a witty reply--was it possible that his engineering expertise could afford a fancy rent-a-car like the one that just dropped this man off? His laughter rang across the Plaza and up to the rooftop; it was infectious. Bucky wanted to get closer to the man, wanted to meet him, a bubble of hope that maybe he was Eddie.

And then the man lowered his sunglasses, and Bucky’s stomach plummeted to the rooftop, ice ran along his veins. It was Tony Stark.

Something ingrained deep inside him immediately started looking for Steve. If the Avengers were here, if they had discovered his location somehow, it meant trouble for him. But at least it also meant seeing Steve again.

Bucky crouched low, watched Stark perch against the Plaza wall and look at his phone. Was he contacting the other Avengers? Bucky’s skin itched and he looked over his shoulder even though he knew there were no vantage points behind him.

He needed to leave. Now. Before the rest of the Avengers arrived. When Steve came...Bucky could already see the disappointment in his eyes when he realized Bucky wasn’t the man he’d been decades ago. The fire escape creaked under his weight as he rushed down it, sliding into the empty alley. The only way out was through the Plaza, so he pulled up his hoodie and adopted an unobtrusive posture.

There was still only Stark in the Plaza, the other Avengers either entirely absent or staying well hidden. He blended into the coffee shop, grabbed a coffee to go and when he slid out of the shop, Stark was still leaning against the wall, staring at his phone.

There was a part of him that wanted to stay, that was trying to persuade him to look for Eddie, even in this mess, because he didn’t want the man to think Bucky never came.

But who was he really to think that he could meet someone like Eddie and not pull him into this mess? His arm still ached, and he thought with a crazed sort of suddenness that _Tony Stark_ would know how to fix is arm. Bucky bet Tony Stark would get a kick out of his chat room.

He was just getting to the edge of the Plaza when he heard the sounds of repulsors coming to life behind him. He picked up his pace but the Iron Man armor was faster.

It landed in his path, blocking his way. “Are you who I think you are?” The voice modulator made it difficult to read whether the voice carried a question or a warning, but Bucky wasn’t planning on staying around long enough to enough to find out.

He threw the first punch. It landed hard, with a crunch, against Iron Man’s helmet. He knew he couldn’t outfight the armor with his arm all messed up, but he had the element of surprise, and before Iron Man could recover from where he landed halfway across the Plaza, Bucky ran.

Iron Man was quick on his heels, flying behind him and shooting at the same time. He had to get to a place where he could blend in, somewhere that the Iron Man couldn’t risk shooting his repulsors.

He booked it across the street to the nearby market, pulling the hoodie off as soon as he made it inside and pulling his hair back into a bun. By the time Iron Man followed him into the market, he was nose deep in a book, back to the Avenger as Iron Man asked the shopkeepers if they’d seen a long haired man in a hoodie run by.

With a few shakes of their heads, Iron Man retreated outside.

Bucky let out a deep breath, and didn’t leave the market until the sun went down.


	10. Part 3 - Unplugged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I didn't leave you hanging for too long! Thank you so much for reading.

**PART THREE**

**Unplugged**

* * *

**TheMechanic**

They were set to meet at 3:00. It was ten minutes after and there still wasn’t a single sign of John. Sometimes, he wondered if the awkwardness of sending him a smartphone would’ve been worth it, if only so he could maintain contact as he travelled to San Jose. _Or...so you could track him entirely_ , his baser instincts shouted.

It was too cloudy; there was something wrong in the air. A sinking feeling in Tony's gut told him that this meetup wouldn’t go as planned.

And then he saw the Winter Soldier.

Even under the hoodie, it had to be him. Tony knew he’d dragged Steve out of the Potomac then fled. SHIELD, Hydra, everyone had been looking for him ever since.

_The arm, living abroad_

Tony flew towards him.

_Doing odd jobs, out of touch_

It didn’t make any sense.

_The 1940s Stark Expo…_

Yet suddenly everything was clear.

“Are you who I think you are?” he asked the man who was sinking further into his grey hoodie, who wouldn’t meet his gaze until he raised his fists, and then Tony wasn’t able to say anything else because he was flying across the Plaza.

_What were the odds?_

His brain was trying to connect the dots while the rest of him was trying to get the man to slow down. They needed to talk to each other. Something was coming together in his mind: all the conversations with John, how sometimes he seemed to know more than he should about some topics but nothing at all about others. Tony flew. There was something in the man’s expression, a fear like he was being cornered. And he was, by Tony, because Tony had to know if the Winter Soldier was here for the same reason he was, to meet the man he’d been talking online with for weeks.

Or was this some sort of trap, an elaborate ploy setup by the greatest assassin of all time to corner Iron Man-- but why would he strike when he was injured? It was obvious he was fighting with a damaged arm. _Well, not fine but...I just hurt my arm._

Tony flew into the market but all he found inside were stunned faces. He lowered his repulsors but knew immediately that no one would say anything. They wanted him to go away, they didn’t want the trouble that tended to follow superheroes.

“No man here, sir,” one shopkeeper said in broken English.

The display in the corner of his Iron Man helmet interface read 3:15. He left the market and walked back towards the Plaza, letting the Iron Man suit fold back into his wristwatch. He stumbled his way to the coffee shop, focused on the equation at hand, knowing he should go after the Soldier but…if the Soldier _wasn’t_ John, then that meant John could be someone else here in the Plaza, waiting for Tony.

“John!” he shouted, because he had no interest in pretense anymore. “DoeJohn!”

Silence.

He stomach sunk, every face that looked up held only confusion, annoyance, not a single spark of recognition. And the Winter Soldier was gone.

He would’ve put his whole fortune on the fact that **DoeJohn** wouldn’t stand him up. It went against everything he knew about the man. But Tony Stark hadn't been stood up. Someone had shown up.

Bucky Barnes.

**DoeJohn**

“Much easier to connect when you turn on the computer. Staring at it from out the window is not enough,” Señora Flores informed him through the doorway of the internet cafe the following morning, her welcoming grin wrinkling the corners of her cheeks.

“I’m aware.”

“You sound unhappy.”

Bucky sipped his cafecito. “I’m thinking.”

“Your sad face scares my customers. Come inside and we talk.”

Bucky didn’t much want to talk to Señora Flores, but he found himself doing as she said anyway. His mind was abuzz; every noise caught his ear, on high alert and ready for whatever was to come next. Would Iron Man show up? He knew his tail was clear when he left San Jose, but Tony Stark was a genius, and Bucky was a sitting duck. 

The thought made him want to leave the internet cafe, but he was already inside. Señora Flores’ thinning lips twisted in disapproval, yet her eyes carried an unwavering kindness. And keen observation skills. “You always seem so happy to come here, and now,” she gestured towards his face, “you glare. So unhappy. Is this about your friend in that chat room?”

Bucky snorted because Señora Flores already knew she was right, what point was there in refuting her? “Yes, we tried to meet and…” And I almost blew my cover. Almost got caught. Almost got Eddie tangled up in the middle of it all.

She put a hand out, interrupting him and beckoning him closer at the same time. “Was he ugly?” she whispered.

The question surprised him so much that his coffee went down the wrong way and he started to cough, which made Ms. Flores laugh and laugh.

“Why would that matter?” Bucky asked when he finally calmed down.

Señora Flores’ smile was too knowing, it made the back of his neck itch with that familiar sensation of being watching. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. I stood him up.”

“Because he was ugly?”

Bucky snorted. “No.”

“Then why?”

“It’s complicated.”

Señora Flores leaned back from the cashier counter and crossed her arms. “ _M’ijo_. It always is.”

“When I went to meet him, I ran into someone who...before. Before I left America, he became friends with one of my friends. My best friend.”

“So you, what? You were jealous? Angry? You left before you could see your internet friend?”

“Yes.”

Señora Flores’ frowned. “It sounds like to me, you owe your chat friend an apology.”

Bucky looked towards the computer but shook his head. Iron Man knew he was in Costa Rica, or at least knew that he had been in the country within the last twenty-four hours. There was no telling what sort of surveillance a man of his caliber could place on the square mile radius of San Jose.

It was bad enough he had even returned to Turrialba. But the devil you knew…

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Days passed.

Every day for a week, Bucky walked through the Plaza, purchased his cafecito and came to chat with Señora Flores.

Every day, she told him to go online and talk with his friend, and every day, he pushed it off till the next.

Then the day came when Bucky walked into the internet cafe and Señora Flores wasn’t standing behind the cashier, someone else was. “Where’s Señora Flores?” Bucky asked the young man.

“Mi abuela esta en el doctor.”

“Everything okay?”

“Si. Routine.”

“Ah.”

“You like a computer?”

It had been a week since their planned meetup, and Bucky felt confident he had hidden enough. He could hide from the rest of the world, but he didn’t want to hide from his internet friend any longer. Surely, Tony Stark had returned to New York City by now.

When he logged on and found zero trace of **TheMechanic** in chat or their PM, his heart sunk. Eddie hadn’t been online in days. Bucky stared at the screen, seeing nothing but their last chat, where both of them were excited about meeting that afternoon, despite all the awkwardness that had surrounded fixing his arm.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**DoeJohn**

Hey.

**DoeJohn**

Sorry about last week.

**DoeJohn**

I saw trouble and ran from the area.

A logical excuse but it made him feel sick. He thought about waiting a bit, to see if **TheMechanic** would sign on, but after only a moment, he shutdown the computer entirely. Eddie thought he stood him up and then disappeared for a week. Of course, he’d never want to speak to Bucky again.


	11. Chapter 11

It was hours after John sent the messages that Tony finally saw them. Not because he didn’t know that they were there waiting, but because he’d heard the vibration, knew immediately that it was John and was sure whatever he’d said was a lie.

After the Winter Soldier had disappeared--and Tony had scared off the remaining clientele, that hadn’t been scared away by superheroes, by screaming for “DoeJohn” like a madman--Tony fell into a haze. The Iron Man suit pieced together like a safety blanket, wrapping him up and taking him back to New York in no time at all. Tony didn’t stop JARVIS, let him man the suit on autopilot. When he got to New York, the suit came apart as he walked into the penthouse and collapsed face first into his bed.

**DoeJohn** went radio silent. And this time, Tony expected to never hear from him again. Then his phone buzzed. 

**DoeJohn**

I saw trouble and ran from the area.

Tony read the sentence over and over. On its face, it made sense.

But it didn’t excuse the things that fit together a little too well. Most notably, Winter Soldier’s metal arm and John’s prosthetic; the way he was even there at all, in Costa Rica, at that very plaza. Some of the other oddities that never really meant anything on their own but together they made sense: how disconnected from technology he was. Expats had smartphones, unless they weren’t used to carrying one. The obsession with the flying car.

**TheMechanic**

That’s smart.

Tony paced up and down his workshop, trying to coincide the man he knew, John, with the Winter Soldier.

John. James.

**TheMechanic**

We’ll have to try again some other time.

He knew nothing about the Winter Soldier, not really. It could be a trap. But if what remained of Hydra wanted him, then surely there had to be easier ways of entrapping him. The Winter Soldier could’ve returned to Hydra and yet he...fled to a Costa Rican mountaintown? That didn’t seem like the actions or decisions of a dangerous man.

And why did the Winter Soldier matter, when he knew the man he’d befriended online so well? He knew the things that mattered, like the random online articles John found amusing, how he made ends meet, where he lived and what he did with his days off. He knew what the man liked to do online and off, and that in and of itself was a strong indicator of who he was as a person.

John was his friend.

John returned his banter and goaded him into a smile nearly everyday. After a conversation with John, he always felt like he was floating, any stress forgotten. That was what mattered.

**_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing….._

Tony sucked in a breath, it was late - very late. _Intentionally_ late. John must have gone into the small computer room in the hostel. **DoeJohn** wasn’t marked online...Had John been waiting all night for a reply? Or maybe he just couldn’t sleep…

It was too late to take back the open invitation, and there was no point wondering if he would’ve offered his invitation if he’d known John was online to reply right away.

The typing stopped, then, after a moment, **_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing….._

**DoeJohn**

Yeah

**DoeJohn**

Maybe

Tony’s stomach plummeted. He’d chatted with John long enough to read between the lines and he knew that _Yeah_ meant no. _Maybe_ meant never again. And Tony wouldn’t stand for _No, never again._

Winter Soldier or not, he wanted to meet the person that had grown so important to him.

“JARVIS--”

“Sir, may I remind you--”

“No. Suit, now.”

“But, Sir, you only just returned--”

Tony turned his attention back to his chat.

**TheMechanic**

Went and let a little superhero drama scare you off, huh?

His change of tone was abrupt, and he wondered if John would see it for what it was - a reset button on their conversation.

**DoeJohn**

Ha

**DoeJohn**

You saw it happen and stayed, so that must make you the brave one out of the two of us.

“And now I’m going back,” Tony told JARVIS, firm and resolute, because he wasn’t in the mood to be questioned. It was late, almost sunrise, and he could be back in Costa Rica by early morning. Just enough time to fly to every internet cafe an hour’s distance from San Jose.

He stopped pacing, stared at the phone that’d been glued to his hands. John didn’t need to have any reason to be suspicious.

**TheMechanic**

I have to call it a night.

**TheMechanic**

You’re up pretty late too. Guess that hostel computer’s working out for you.

If Tony could get confirmation he was at the hostel, he’d know that Bucky had at least gone back to his old town, which meant the internet cafe and the plaza at the center of town was still where he should look.

**_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing…_ He stopped. Started again.

**DoeJohn**

Yeah. Sarah told me to use it whenever.

A town with a plaza and an internet cafe owned by Señora Flores, a hostel owned by a Sarah. These were his breadcrumbs.

**DoeJohn**

But it is late. So...later

Tony knew it was abrupt but it almost didn’t matter, tomorrow would change everything.

~~~

Tony realized halfway to Costa Rica that he had to prevent word getting out that Iron Man was in the area, which meant he had to fly under the radar, and change into regular clothes before entering each town. It was tedious, and even though the mountain air carried a chill on its edges, Tony was sweating by the third town.

He had no idea there’d be this many internet cafes in Costa Rica’s countryside. Somewhere back in New York, JARVIS was doing the digital equivalent of smirking, as he monitored the audio link to the Iron Man HUD and witnessed Tony’s cursing.

Maybe he should’ve planned this a bit better.

The next town came up empty but he stopped to ask this time, if the gentleman “knew of a Señora Flores, because he was looking for her internet cafe,” in his near perfect but horribly accented Spanish.

“Ah, si!” The man nodded, and Tony quickly pulled up a map on his phone, and Tony watched as he pointed to a town to the west of them.

“Gracias!” Tony slid his phone back into his pocket, and considered the irony that the one thing that assisted him the most when searching for this internet cafe and his internet friend, wasn’t found on the internet at all, it was a friendly stranger. John would laugh about that with him, but he couldn’t tell him.

At least not yet.

He walked a bit further out of town, until he neared a field of maize, and then he let the Iron Man suit crawl over his skin. He took off from the ground before it even fully formed, eager to get this over with now. Whatever this was-- to meet his friend, his flirting buddy, to provide refuge for another supersoldier out of time? The flight was direct. Tony felt doubt slip in with each passing minute.

He spotted another field of maize. It was further out than he needed, but Tony wanted to land, wanted his phone in his hand. Maybe the walk would be a bit long, but he wanted the ability to have a moment with his internet friend, maybe for one last time. It was nine in the morning, and that meant **DoeJohn** would be online.

**TheMechanic**

I’m lost and just got directions from a shopkeeper. What is this 1990?

**_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing…_ appeared right away, without a moment's hesitation. He was at the cafe.

**DoeJohn**

Wow.

**DoeJohn**

Did your Starkphone run out of battery?

**DoeJohn**

And your StarkPad?

**DoeJohn**

And your StarkHome?

Tony barked a laugh out in the middle of the field. If he’d put it all together, figured it out, he might be toying with Tony, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It felt like nothing had changed at all, except everything was about to.

**_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing…._

**DoeJohn**

And your StarkPC?

**TheMechanic**

All right, all right, I get it. I have a lot of ways to access the internet, and no they all didn’t run out of battery, they just couldn’t provide me with the information I needed.

**DoeJohn**

I was just innocently pointing out how much of a fan boy you are.

Tony gripped his phone, rolling his eyes. A bus drove by and the road was getting a bit more crowded; he was approaching the center of Turrialba. He couldn’t hold in his laughter.

**TheMechanic**

It’s *fanboy.* One word.

**DoeJohn**

It’s a made up word, it could be either.

**TheMechanic**

All words are made up.

Tony looked up from his phone as he turned a corner towards the main plaza, he slid the device that felt like an appendage into his pocket. This was it, he was walking towards **DoeJohn**.

Whoever that was--John or James or the Winter Soldier--it didn’t really matter because they were the person at the other end of this chat screen teasing Tony, befriending Tony, sassing Tony.

The town continued to fill in around him, and it seemed like every road ended here, at the plaza. John had spoken about it enough, but he had failed to mention how the bakery attached to the cafe with his favorite cafecito wafted the scent of freshly baked goods into the square. There was a man playing a guitar by the entrance of the church that occupied the north side of the plaza. Across the way, wrapped around the east side, was a row of shops, including an internet cafe.

Tony could suddenly hear his heart in his ears. He needed a moment and out of habit went straight to the cafeteria, even though coffee was the last thing his nerves needed. The cafe con leche tasted absolutely delicious, the milk thick and the sugar light. He still had to put it down after one sip. He sat at a table outside, overlooking the plaza and, out of another habit, he pulled out his phone.

Part of him wondered if there was a chance John would come by the cafeteria, that maybe he would see him again and this time just _know_ , put it all together. Only Tony Stark would go anonymously join his own fanclub. What would John think of the arrogance--despite the fact that neither of his identities hid their ego.

Tony would look up and see John...He had imagined every type of man he could, though now his instinct knew only one face belonged to his friend. The frightened face of the Winter Soldier in San Jose. It was so easy to picture him sitting stiff in front of a computer screen. The internet cafe had a large open storefront and Tony could see people sitting inside. He was far enough away that he was only able to make out the outline of a man, but it was enough for Tony to find the shape familiar.

He pulled out his phone.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**DoeJohn**

The new StarkScreen is too many devices in one.

**DoeJohn**

I don’t think I need something that can both track my bowels and record video.

**DoeJohn**

I know that almost everything does that these days. But there should be limits.

When Tony hadn’t answered **DoeJohn** had returned to chat, but he kept his comments to a minimum. Tony didn’t feel like chatting with the group. Now that he was here, picturing what John looked like as he waited for Tony to reply-- All he wanted to do was move.

Tony was on his feet, moving forward so fast that his cafe sloshed over the rim of the paper cup. This was it; cool mountain air, the town waking up in the morning, smell of espresso in the air, everything **DoeJohn** had described falling into place next around him. He skidded to a stop at the storefront. Two people sat side by side near the front of the internet cafe and then a few computers down, in a dark hoodie and a glove over one hand, was his friend.

Time stopped then stuttered to a start. The next thing he knew, **DoeJohn** was turning to look towards him, and it happened in slow motion, the plastic chair scraping back against the tile, gray eyes widening. A woman was shouting in Spanish -- Señora Flores-- Tony’s brain provided.

“¿Que esta pasando?” She yelled. _What was going on?_

“Bien,” Tony choked out. “Esta bien.”

“Good?” The word stuttured from John - Bucky’s mouth, his face draining of his color. Everyone had turned to look at them, and Tony needed to get the situation under control, but the man in front of him barrelled on. “No. Not, ‘good’, Iron Man. You followed me here from San Jose?”

It felt like a kick in his gut, because did he really not know? Had he not figured it out? Bucky’s eye snapped to the phone gripped in Tony’s palm, then shot the computer. His hands came up, grabbing the sides of his face and shaking his head. “No. I can’t believe... I’d--but--”

“Yes.” Tony stepped forward like he was approaching a spooked horse. “We should get out of here. Lots of…” He trailed off because it was obvious that it would be better to have this conversation in private. Suddenly he remembered the cafe con leche in his hand, and it seemed stupid but he really had no other ideas, and the _Winter Soldier_ was still looking at him shell shocked. “I brought you a coffee?”

That got his attention, probably more so the absurdity of it, considering John-- _James? Bucky?_... hardly looked at the coffee, even when he reached out and grabbed it, holding it like it was something significant. Or maybe he was worried it was going to explode in his face. Either way, it seemed to focus him, because he nodded once, took a sip, then smiled apologetically at Señora Flores. “My friend. From the computer. Surprised me.”

Her suspicious expression turned into one of pure delight. “¡Qué maravilloso!”

Tony felt again like the wind had been knocked from him, because he hadn’t expected John’s explanation, how he was able to recalibrate so quickly. When he turned back to Tony, his eyes narrowed, and Tony had to stop himself from taking a step back.

Tony suddenly remembered the words he’d told Steve. How if the Winter Soldier came back to the tower, he’d need to be confined, how Tony had told Steve that they’d need to assess how dangerous he was.

But John had never been a threat. Never seemed unhinged. What he knew of the Winter Soldier he’d learned from SHIELD reports and hacked Hydra files, but no one knew who the man was right now. He’d been on the run and no one had ever able to get close enough to find out.

Except for, apparently, Tony.

Another moment passed, and John must’ve seen something in his expression that propelled him to step forward and lead them out into the plaza. “Come on, I know a place we can talk.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day from me to you!

Tony Stark was a beautiful man. It was an undeniable fact, a fact that might act as a topic of conversation in the chatroom, but otherwise not something Bucky had thought much about. Tony Stark was Howard Stark’s son, a genius, a celebrity, a superhero, but until he palled up with Steve, he wasn’t in Bucky’s orbit, he was beyond reach. But Eddie-- _Tony Stark_ \--was not actually beyond reach. He was right here, and Bucky knew who he was. He was hard working and caring, he always remembered facts about people in chat, and was quick to offer advice when someone came to the group with a problem. **TheMechanic** made him laugh, and as he watched him from his periphery, Bucky could see it all so easily, how this charming man could be his confident friend.

Bucky was an idiot.

The Tony Stark he saw at the Plaza in San Jose was a threat. A loose thread, a consequence of something triggering someone's surveillance. He’d been spotted on the bus, or on a CCTV camera--something he’d done had fucked everything up, and Tony Stark showed up right at the worst moment. 

The irony that the man that brought him and Eddie together was the one keeping them apart, had not escaped Bucky in his rush back into the mountains.

But now, that was all shattered to pieces because everything was twisted together, a new puzzle that he had to start from scratch. Tony Stark was **TheMechanic** ; in hindsight, it was obvious. The conferences, people always over his shoulder, he always knew so much about SI.

But so did everyone else in chat.

This made everything infinitely more complicated. Bucky almost asked if Steve knew he’d been living here, but he _knew_ Eddie wouldn’t betray him like that, so he bit his tongue and tried to focus on one thing at a time.

He’d been such a fool. Blind, when he thought he’d covered all his bases.

No one paid them much attention, as they were walking across town. They saw nothing more than a familiar face walking with his friend, whose unusually large sunglasses easily hid his identity. Bucky thought about going to the hostel but knew it’d be crowded with checkouts, so instead he led Tony Stark out of town.

When they turned off the street and onto a dirt trail, Eddie started to chuckle. “You’re not taking me to a faraway place to kill me are you? Cause I gotta tell you, the suit is always a press of a button away.” Bucky winced, and Tony Stark’s fake smile faltered. “Sorry. I--That was a tacky joke. I’m, um, nervous.”

Bucky let out a breath. “Me too.” He turned around to look at Eddie over his shoulder. “Can’t kill you. Well, I _could._ But chat would be pissed.”

Tony Stark’s face flashed too many emotions for Bucky to process, but it finally settled on bemused. “This is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, sorry about off-roading, you’re not really in the best shoes.”

“Not that. The hike is fine. You have no idea how much maize I’ve walked through already this morning. I just meant--” He gestured his hand between them. “You’re really John aren’t you?”

Tony Stark _found him,_ but he was still finding it hard to believe the truth. At least Bucky wasn’t the only one to find this whole situation surreal. This was Eddie, the fella on the other end of the screen that made him laugh and blush. His hands twitched to touch him, shake him, make sure he was real. The movement made his arm sting, but he ignored the pain and instead cleared his throat. “I’m really DoeJohn.”

He didn’t know what he felt. Betrayed? But he had lied too. The chat room valued anonymity, and it was more than obvious why a person like Tony Stark would seek that out. Who was he to blame Tony Stark, when Bucky wanted the same exact thing? “And... you’re really TheMechanic. You’re really deciding not to build a flying car this quarter. Again. And apparently your ego led you to your own chat room. Which, since we’ve been friends for months, isn’t even surprising.”

They were coming up the hillside, the trees clearing as they approached the top. Eddie groaned in exertion but no one other than Bucky was around to hear it. There was something about hearing such a genuine, unflattering sound come from the polished man that he always saw on TV that settled the twist in his gut that had appeared the moment he saw Tony Stark standing outside Señora Flores internet cafe. “It’s illogical, Eddie. Let’s not give the consumer what they want for the seventy some odd years in a row.” Bucky cut off his own laugh. “Or, well, not Eddie.”

The path curved, and the elevation increased. Tony Stark shook his head. “There _is_ an Eddie. It’s my middle name and…”

“And?”

“Our butler, his name was Edwin, but his family called him Eddie… and I considered him family. My closest family, some days.”

The wind blew the tree branches above their heads and Bucky’s hair. Eddie’s was too full of product to move, which was just _so_ Eddie, that it made it easier for Bucky to say something. “There’s no John, that was the point.”

“John Doe,” Tony Stark replied. “Kinda figured that.”

Bucky shrugged, the movement making him wince.

“Your arm.” Tony Stark’s gaze went straight to his sleeve-covered appendage. “Let me.”

Bucky froze midstep. “You want to see my arm? Right here in the middle of the trail?”

“You're in pain, right?” Eddie stepped closer, his hand coming to the cuff of the sleeve but stopping short. From this close Bucky could feel the warmth coming off him in waves. It’d been so long since he was this close to someone, especially someone who knew him so well.

“I’ve been in pain for months, it can wait a bit longer.”

“Why should it have to?” Eddie’s whispered words cut through the open air and carried with them an urgency that Bucky didn’t have time to question because the man was clipping on a bracelet and the Iron Man gauntlet formed around Eddie’s hand between breaths.

“Wow,” Bucky couldn’t keep his awe inside his own damn mind, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind, a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks instead, and his grin flickered, small and shy, at the corners of his lips. It didn’t look like any of the hundreds of smiles he’d seen from Tony Stark images shared in chat, and it made Bucky wish he could screenshot it. “Looks a lot more impressive when it’s not aiming a weapon at me.”

“The gauntlet contains my repulsors, but it also…” The gauntlet shifted and whirred, transitioning into different tools like a swiss army knife. It finally settled on a screwdriver, and when Bucky pulled his gaze away from his hand to his eyes, he saw that Tony’s sunglasses had transformed into magnifying goggles before his eyes.

Bucky realized that if he was going to be hanging out with Tony Stark, he should try to get used to blatant displays of awe-inspiring technology. Tony Stark’s private smirk turned flirtatious “Now I know what expression accompanies your ‘wows’, whenever you say them in chat. I’m going to have to invoke them more often. Impressed looks good on you.”

Bucky felt his own skin heat.

“Let me see.” Tony held out his palm and waited. Bucky took a breath and pulled off his sweatshirt with the hand of his undamaged arm. Even in the mountains, it could get warm, so Bucky often wore a tank underneath.

“Well, can’t say I ever imagined you this fit,” Tony Stark said under his breath, the hand without the gauntlet gripping his wrist so that he could inspect where the metal panels slotted together. As he worked, Bucky’s senses were invaded with a spicy aftershave or cologne that fit so well with what he knew of his friend Eddie.

Eddie, whose fingers were running up his arm, coming to dance over his shoulder and press into the knots of his back. “The way this wire is pulling, you must really be feeling the strain here--” Tony Stark pushed in a knot in the center of his shoulder blade, and Bucky couldn’t keep the groan from escaping his mouth.

He kept on massaging Bucky’s shoulder while the gauntlet adjusted the wire. It was hard to focus on much of anything as the pleasure in his back offset the twinges of pain in his arm. He had the dizzying thought that chat would flip out if they knew Tony Stark was working on his arm.

But chat wasn’t chat without Eddie, and Eddie was Tony Stark, and he still wasn’t sure what to do with that. So he let Tony Stark do whatever he wanted, like fix his arm on the side of a trail in the Costa Rican countryside.

“Okay,” Tony Stark said after a few more minutes, stepping back and lowering Bucky’s arm to his side. Bucky immediately missed his radiating warmth. “I think I figured out the issue and there should be a lot less pressure on your nerves. Like, a lot a lot. If it’s not significantly better I’d be very surprised. And confused.”

Bucky shook his head, because Eddie’s rambling was even more exuberant in person than online, but its affect was the same, and Bucky laughed, feeling that same surge of affection he felt whenever Eddie dazzled in chat. “It does,” Bucky agreed. “Feel better. Can’t imagine what you’d be able to do with a whole lab at your disposal.”

“Oh baby, you have no idea.”

Bucky’s jaw snapped shut at the endearment, and Tony Stark averted his gaze, awkwardness filling the space between them. Bucky cleared his throat. “Come on, we’re not far.”

“This murder spot must be really nice.”

“Only the best for members of SIdeas.”

Eddie groaned. “They couldn’t think of a better name?”

“Probably,” Bucky replied. “Bunsen loves his puns.”

“Oh god, don’t get me started.” Eddie was about to continue what probably would’ve been a very snarky tirad but instead he stopped short, the sprawling valley landscape opening before them. It was a bright blue day, wisps of clouds casting shadows onto the valley below. It was a volcano town, and Bucky would have put his money on the inactive site coming to life, over the probability that’d he’d one day be standing here with Tony Stark.

They both watched the clouds cross the sky as the wind picked up enough to brush his hair from his shoulders. The movement must’ve caught Eddie’s attention because he turned to Bucky, running his gaze over him like there were too many things he wanted to see, wanted to know. Bucky was unprepared for the softly spoken question. “Do you have any interest in coming back to New York?”

He hadn’t expected it to be a choice. From the moment he’d seen Tony Stark, from the moment he saw Iron Man in San Jose, he’d always thought it’d be a fight, and if he’d lost, he’d wake up in a cell at SHIELD, or, maybe, at the tower. He’d wake up handcuffed to the bed and see Steve’s concerned blue eyes by his side.

But Eddie wouldn’t do those things. This sounded more like Eddie inviting him to come visit, than Iron Man bringing him in for questioning. 

“Maybe,” Bucky said, looking back over the mountain side. “I--Eddie.” He swallowed, because it was harder to talk to Tony Stark in person than it was to chat with Eddie through a screen. “Does the world even want me back?”

“Tony,” Eddie whispered the word, like he didn’t mean to say it. But he recovered, clearing his throat and putting on a tight smile.“You can call me Tony. I mean, you can call me Eddie too. I really don’t care either way. And it sounds nice, the way you say it, but yeah, Tony too.”

Bucky smiled at another ramble. “Everyone always used called me Bucky.”

“Most people still do,” Tony replied. Probably thinking about Steve.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Well, the Winter Soldier’s a legend. But funny thing about that: he’s dead. At least that’s the rumor.”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle, because this was exactly like **TheMechanic** , trying to swoop in and fix everything.

“Oh yeah? And what of Bucky Barnes?”

“Dead too. But with the right connections, paperwork, and hacking….” A cloud moved overhead, casting them both into a shadow, but Tony’s eyes sparkled through it. “I guess that’s up to you.”

The wind picked up, and life moved on below. Costa Rica was beautiful, and Bucky would miss it because there was only one way to move forward, now that the cloak of anonymity had been pulled away from him. Conflict warred in Eddie’s expression, concern and hope, fear too, but that wasn’t why Bucky made his decision. It was time. He’d been found; but that wasn’t so bad, now that Tony was by his side. He took a deep breath.

“I want to go back with you.”


	13. Chapter 13

_“I want to go back with you.”_

Tony had flown to Costa Rica wanting to hear those words, but was unable to hope, unable to consider, that he’d actually get what he wanted in the end. Because in his life, even with his fame and his riches, getting what he wanted hardly ever happened to Tony. Except, he supposed, that with the aid of anonymity, it had. It allowed him to meet John.

And Tony would look past the irony because he was finally getting the guy in the end. Or at least, he was living some version of the fairy tale, because John coming back was everything he wanted, but it came with...complications.

They were on the flight from Costa Rica to New York. Bucky looked out of place in the first class seat. He was quiet, eyes focused on the window, but Tony knew he was trained and able to keep track of everything that was going on in the plane, like he had a pair of eyes in the back of his head.

The drive from Turrialba to the airport was full of furtive glances and large swaths of space between them. The closeness that had formed between them on the trail had evaporated, now that they were returning to New York together.

Tony slid out his phone.

It was what he’d normally do, back before everything turned upside down between him and John, so he thought maybe it would return something to normalcy. If nothing else, it would at least pass the time.

W E L C O M E T O T H E F U T U R E

Greetings! Here you will find like minded individuals looking to poke and prod and question. The channel guide will help you find your way around. 

**#general** \- For everything and anything

 **#brainstorming** \- For talking out ideas

 **#designs_and_diagrams** \- For uploading media files

**#AVENGERS-STUFF-HERE**

**#memes** \- For the love of Science, let’s keep them contained.

He had an outstanding message from **DoeJohn** , which he ignored, probably sent right as Tony was approaching the internet cafe. He turned instead to **#brainstorming** where Bunson The Burner was talking about the latest Avengers news and Schrödinger’s Dog was telling him to move it along to the proper channel. They’d added the Avengers channel sometime since he was last on, and, really, it was about time.

Tony was considering whether following Bunson to the other Avengers channel, because they were talking about Brucie Bear’s contributions as a scientist and that was always something Tony supported, but in **#brainstorming** , they were having a pretty interesting conversation about ideas for transitional clothing for Bruce and the Hulk before Bunson sidetracked them. Tony had tried fabric that stretched easily then shrunk again in water, and it worked, but only useful during missions involving water. Most of the time, on the streets of New York, Bruce ended up with too large pants brunching at the waist.

He was explaining that in #brainstorming and Schrödinger’s Dog was now telling _him_ to go to the Avengers chat when there was a tap on his shoulder.

“You paid for the wifi?” Bucky’s voice was low but Tony could hear it easily, they were sitting so close.

“Free in first class.”

“Oh.” A blush crossed Bucky’s face, an expression he saw a few times on the trail but not once since then. Tony hadn’t expected it, but he found himself wondering what he could do to make it appear again. “Cool.”

Tony watched as he pulled out the tablet he was borrowing, and the next thing he knew DoeJohn was in **#general** , pointedly ignoring anything that had to do with the Avengers.

Tony knew there was a lot they needed to figure out, but for now, they could hide in chat for a few more hours.

~~~

They’d been in New York for twenty minutes and there was already a churning in his gut. Tony knew the cause was the way Steve’s arms wrapped around Bucky--how familiar, how treasured, the hug appeared to them both. There’d been a furrow in Bucky’s brow since they left Costa Rica, and it wasn’t until Steve pulled him close that it smoothed itself out.

Tony turned away, giving the two friends their privacy and wondered, not for the first time, the extent of their history. Outside the tall, common room windows, New York City buzzed, but they were too high altitude for any city noises to obstruct him from hearing the conversation happening on the other side of the living room.

“How did he even find you?”

Tony should have interjected, helped provide a cover story but all he could focus on was the rushing in his ears as his heart raced behind the arc reactor. Because Tony was always going to let Bucky take the lead there, and he was just as curious as Steve about what the answer would be. Pepper and Rhodey thought he had an online romantic partner, the Avengers knew Tony had online friends, and if it was up to Tony, that was exactly how he would have introduced Bucky. But he wasn’t the one on the run. He wasn’t the one covering up secrets.

A beat of silence, and Tony finally turned away from the window, just abe to catch Bucky staring at him in his periphery before he broke his gaze away. Bucky swallowed, gripping Steve’s bicep. “I sent him a message.” Bucky gestured to Tony. “To bring me here.”

A dozen emotions flew across Steve’s face but the most prominent one was betrayal. Tony looked back out the window, itched to be in chat right now half-arguing, half-flirting with John about the latest StarkPad update. “You could’ve come to me, Buck.”

There was a pause. Maybe Bucky was shrugging, or nodding. Tony kept his gaze facing the window.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

They arranged to put Bucky in Steve’s quarters, even though Tony offered him his own spare room - twice. On Bucky’s tour of the tower, Tony stood awkwardly in the corner of each room Steve showed him, until it was obvious Bucky was going to crash from sleep as soon as the makeshift tour was over, and Tony excused himself.

He didn’t hear from Bucky for the next eighteen hours. Instead, Tony fiddled away in the workshop, wanting to give Bucky time to reconnect with his old friend. Tony was sure they had all sorts of things to catch up on, and they didn’t need him lingering in the background. Tony was happy for John; he’d known he’d been lonely, even with Sarah and Señora Flores and all the people he met on his odd jobs. There was a reason John shared all his idle thoughts with people behind a screen. Steve had been his best friend, Tony had heard the tales of their legendary friendship. Read about them. In the Smithsonian. He knew when it was time to take a step back.

So he hid away with his tech and waited for John to reach out. When he finally did, it was through a Private Message.

**DoeJohn**

So...any tips for ending that debate in General?

Tony almost shutdown his StarkPad, because after everything _that_ was what John started with? Some transparent, nothing had changed yet everything had, chitchat?

**TheMechanic**

I haven’t even been in General

**DoeJohn**

Haven’t been much of anywhere for the past few hours.

Before Tony could get riled up at that accusation, Bucky followed with a string of texts.

**DoeJohn**

This you hiding?

**DoeJohn**

Steve seems to think this is normal behavior for you, is it?

**DoeJohn**

I think this is just the time you hid away to spend in chat

**DoeJohn**

It's much more egotistical in retrospect.

This is the most that Bucky had messaged him since he found out **TheMechanic** was Tony. **DoeJohn** had never been quiet, once they had started PMing. This seemed different though, maybe because they hadn't usually chatted late at night, and certainly never with only a few mere flights of stairs between them.

He should probably reply.

**TheMechanic**

Egotistical *is* one of my top five strongest traits, you can ask any magazine interview.

**DoeJohn**

He finally replies.

**TheMechanic**

Lies

**TheMechanic**

I was speaking to my ego.

**DoeJohn**

Hah

Tony wondered if Bucky was really laughing. He imagined it affectionate, he imagined it dripping with derision. That was the problem with digital conversations, you could project whatever you wanted onto it. But he hadn’t imagined his friendship with John, he _hadn’t_ , and that was all Bucky Barnes, whether Tony had known it at the time or not.

**TheMechanic**

You should come down here, I can show you something much more exciting than what they’re discussing over in General.

**DoeJohn**

So you *were* lurking.

Tony didn’t respond, he’d just invited Bucky in, and now all he could do was wait for a reply.

**DoeJohn**

I’ll be right down.


	14. Part 4 - Connected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Update Day!

Bucky fidgeted in the elevator. He wasn’t proud of it, and he tried to tamp it down, but it couldn’t be helped - he was nervous. On chat, he and Tony had been, well, as Bunsen the Burner had put it, they were practically married.

But in reality, they’d spent maybe thirty six hours together and that was including when they were facing off fist to gauntlet. In reality, he’d come back to Tony Stark’s tower a paranoid and troubled man with a half fixed arm. He had a long way to go until he felt like he could come out of the shadows to the rest of the world, but something kept drawing him towards Tony; both before he knew who **TheMechanic** really was, and now, after learning the truth, there had always been a connection.

The elevator doors opened on the workshop floor. Tony had called and Bucky had answered. The workshop wall was floor to ceiling glass and beyond it were wonders Bucky had hardly dreamed of. He'd been down here once before, a quick visit during his first tour and not nearly enough time to really look around.

On the other side of the glass there were four main work stations, each filled with countless holoscreens. Some had different equipment attached to them, presumably for whatever project Tony was working on. Bucky imagined all the things he could be making, upgrades and innovations. He stopped short because along the far wall were actual robots. Eddie had mentioned his projects, but when he had said he was designing a robot, Bucky had pictured a tiny, humanoid creature that maybe danced...not the rolling, spinning assistant that was currently cleaning a workstation, handing Tony a tool and doing something on a computer. 

And at the center of it all, Bucky could see Tony: protective goggles on, hunched over a piece of welding, sparks flying as he tinkered away.

Bucky pulled out his phone and opened their PM.

**DoeJohn**

You showing off?

He watched Tony pull out his phone, open the message and laugh. His gaze didn’t return to the metal but instead he looked up and found Bucky. “Maybe a little,” he shouted through the glass. “Is it working?”

Bucky pushed open the door, the exchange loosening something in his gut. “Working, how?” he asked, grin forming on his face because he _knew_ this man who liked to tinker away on his projects and then share them with the world. Who liked to flirt with everyone, but **DoeJohn** the most.

The thought made Bucky flush with pleasure every time, and now was no different.

Tony flicked a few screens away, walked over towards Bucky. “Guess I’m losing my touch, if you’re asking.”

“I thought you brought me down here to show me jaw dropping tech, why are you waving it away?”

Tony’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth once, twice before being able to reply. “Tech. Right.” He looked around his workshop like it was holding secrets back from him. His hand shot out and he fumbled towards the nearest machine.

“This is, uh.” Tony waved the metal in his hand. It looked like a deconstructed toaster. “Actually this is a toaster.” He snapped his fingers then spun back to what he’d been working on when Bucky arrived. “DUM-E! U!”

“Excuse me--?” Bucky was cut off by two of the robots roaring to life, and he felt laughter bubble in his chest. " _What_ did you name these robots?” Eddie had made robots but never disclosed their names and maybe someone like MarkX or Brobot would know Stark's bots names but Bucky was never at that level of fanboy.

Tony pressed his lips together looking almost embarrassed if the faint pink on his neck had anything to say about the matter. “You heard me. This one’s DUM-E,” he said pointing to the large, bending arm-like machine affixed to a block on wheels. “We go way back.”

“Nice to meet you.” Bucky reached out and shook his claw. The robot beeped and wobbled a bit, and Bucky considered that an enthusiastic greeting.

“Very right, indeed,” Tony said to the robot.

Bucky looked between the two of them. “What did he say?”

“Oh nothing. Definitely not admiring your arm.”

“My--” DUM-E reached out with his claw and tried to wrap it around Bucky’s metal wrist. “Hey!” Bucky shouted at the same time Tony scolded, “DUM-E, no!”

Tony managed to step between them and was now much closer to Bucky. “How’s it feeling?” His voice lowered since they were standing so close, and something about it made Bucky’s heart skip.

“Better. Pain’s all gone.”

“Good.” Tony chewed his bottom lip. Bucky followed the motion with his eyes before whipping his gaze across the room, because Tony was too close to be thinking about his lips.

Tony seemed to notice and followed his gaze, looking around the room. A beat of silence settled between them. Tony shifted on his feet and ran a hand through his hair. “Want to see Clint’s new bow?” he asked, pulling away and heading towards the spot where Bucky was looking.

“Sure,” Bucky agreed readily, but a part of him wondered at the shift in Tony, how he’d been playing around and flirting so easily one moment and so unsure, uncertain - awkward even - the next. He’d invited Bucky down here to see the tech...hadn’t he?

Bucky remembered how it felt to have Tony in his personal space. Right here in the workshop, not moments ago, on the trail in Costa Rica, he’d felt Tony’s breath against his skin. Not to mention the many conversations in chat where he - through **DoeJohn** \- expounded on Tony’s finer assets.

Tony being unsure, uncertain, it was all wrong to Bucky, and he wanted it to change. Before Tony came into his life, all he had was an internet cafe with a ticking fan and his own paranoia to keep him company. But Tony came in like a whirlwind, with sass and knowledge, friendship, care. Brick by brick, they broke down each others walls until they were here - Tony turning to look at Bucky as he showed him the bow, and both of them knowing neither of them cared about the bow, it was just an excuse to stand close together, to breathe each others air, now that there was no screen between them.

Bucky had wondered what Eddie had looked like, what his laugh sounded like, what his lips tasted like. Eddie had occupied his thoughts during long days at odd jobs, nearly every night at the hostel--And now that Bucky knew some answers, he wanted to know _more_.

Tony must’ve seen something in his gaze because his words trailed off as Bucky leaned in. The space between them closed and the last thing he saw was Tony’s eyes dropping to his mouth, before Bucky closed his own to savor the first press of his lips against Tony’s. Bucky felt Tony’s breath catch. Then he was leaning in to Bucky’s embrace, mouth opening and tongue seeking--Tony Stark was never one to do things in halves--and he was wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck and bringing their bodies flush together.

“John,” Tony moaned in a hot breath. “Bucky.” His lips were back, crashing murmured whispers into Bucky’s mouth. His presence overwhelmed Bucky, the smell of his lingering aftershave, the goggles pushed up and knocking against both their foreheads; Tony was real. No screen between them, no secret identities or false pretenses.

A growl formed deep in Bucky's chest, and his hands ran down Tony’s back to grip behind his thighs and lift until Tony wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist.

“I’m so glad I fixed that arm.” Tony’s smile was wide and smug when Bucky braced him against the workshop wall.

Bucky lunged forward, unable to resist kissing that expression off his lips, absorbing it into him so he could keep this feeling forever wrapped around his chest. Tony was hard in his thin sweatpants, and Bucky’s body was aching for him.

“I wasn’t ignoring you,” Tony whispered out of nowhere, pulling back to meet Bucky’s gaze. His eyes were wide, almost wild, like he needed Bucky to understand. “I’m here because this is where I go to think, work. I don’t often spend time with…”

He trailed off, and Bucky could fill in the blanks: before now, there wasn’t much to bring Tony away from his work. While the team was milling about upstairs, this floor more than any other was Tony’s home. Bucky brought his hand up to trace along Tony’s cheek, wrap and tangle into his hair. Tony’s eyes fell closed and he leaned into Bucky’s palm. He was so beautiful. “I’ll just have to come down and visit more often then, instead of waiting for you to show up for the notorious movie nights.”

A light blush bloomed along Tony’s cheeks. “They still having those?”

“So you _do_ know about them?” Bucky laughed, leaning in to kiss him again. “Steve was sure you just never noticed the invitations.”

Tony shrugged, an impressive feat when he was pressed up against a wall. “I’m busy, not oblivious.”

“Is that so?”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “Hey! _I_ figured out who you were long before you did me.”

Bucky groaned, letting his head fall forward into the crook of Tony’s neck. “A fact you have reminded me of twice in the last thirty six hours. You are _also_ the one holed up down here. Hiding.”

“Awe,” Tony teased. “You like counting things too.”

“Must have picked it up when my friend Eddie started counting the hours I stayed offline.”

Tony’s arms gripped tighter around Bucky’s neck. “Not something I hope to have to count in the future.”

Bucky pressed his lips together, because he didn’t want to smirk in the face of Tony’s pout, but it was tempting. “I assure you, **TheMechanic** , if I’m not online, it’s because we’ll be hanging out together ‘irl.’ Deal?"

"Deal."

Bucky smirked. "Especially now that I have a brand new StarkPhone. Can you believe one just showed up on the coffee table outside my room, with my name on it?”

“Oh really?” Tony kissed him again, he tasted like coffee and something uniquely Tony, but before Bucky could deepen it Tony pulled away. “Maybe someone from chat sent it.”

“Maybe.” Bucky chuckled, pulling him back in to kiss him thoroughly.


	15. Chapter 15

Tony was very proud, because they actually had a plan for how they were going to let the others know about their relationship. Tony invited Rhodey and Pepper over for a bbq. It was Steve’s idea, when Tony had mentioned dinner, and now they were all on the rooftop deck under the sun, with Bucky Barnes grilling burgers.

Bruce and Natasha were talking to Pepper and Rhodey over chips and dip while Clint and Steve were testing out a new shield and arrows that Tony had developed in the last two days. What could Tony say? He’d been stressed about John, and when he was stressed, he upgraded.

Everyone seemed content, happy even. But Tony’s gut churned. He was more than a little worried how everyone would react, when they found out he’d been kissing the long lost, former Sergeant, recovering brainwashed assassin. 

He pulled out his phone, muscle memory easily taking him to his PM with **DoeJohn**. He wandered away from the grill, joining the others over chips but with more focus on his phone than their conversation.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**TheMechanic**

Left side or right?

Across the rooftop, in his back pocket and pressing against a part of Bucky Tony kept wanting to put his hands on, a StarkPhone vibrated. He watched as Bucky reached into his pocket, sliding out the phone and swiping open the security code. In only a few more thumb swipes Bucky had a smirk on his face and a brow furrowed with confusion.

**DoeJohn**

What?

**DoeJohn**

I’m dominant with both

**TheMechanic**

:smirk_face: good to know

**TheMechanic**

But I was asking which side of my face I should present, in case anyone decides to punch me when we tell them.

Bucky flicked his gaze to Tony and shook his head, gripping his phone. It was always going to be easier for Tony to have this conversation digitally, even if they hadn’t been surrounded by their friends. Bucky closed the top of the grill, letting the burgers sit.

**DoeJohn**

It’s going to be fine.

**TheMechanic**

It is?

**TheMechanic**

How do you know?

**DoeJohn**

Cause that’s what you told me, and you’re the smartest guy I know.

**DoeJohn**

Or should I be asking you which side of my face to present, too, in case anyone decides to punch *me*?

**TheMechanic**

That seems like a spectacularly bad idea on behalf of the puncher

“Oh. My.” Pepper’s voice broke in through the conversation he’d been having, but he only looked up when a chip hit his forehead. “Oh my _god_ , Tony, I’ve been calling your name over and over. That face of yours again. You haven’t even updated me on your online boytoy in a while.”

Steve looked between the two of them. “Online…?”

Rhodey wiped some chip grease on a paper towel, shaking his head. “Don’t even get her started. Tony has this online friend, he talks to him all the time these days, and it’s very easy to tell when they’re chatting because--”

“His face looks like the most soft little baby's butt in the whole nursery,” Clint cut in.

“Thanks for that imagery,” Tony replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket and trying his hardest not to look towards Bucky.

This wasn’t the plan at all.

Steve pushed back from his seat, walking over to Bucky, clearly calculating something in his head and putting two and two together. Steve had to have seen Bucky in the chat room, Tony knew he’d been on PM with him when they were on separate floors. Steve wasn’t stupid.

And neither was Pepper.

Steve’s movement drew her attention towards Bucky, who hadn’t yet put his phone away. He watched her focus fly from the StarkPhone to its creator in between breaths. “Really?” she asked, her jaw dropping as her eyes widened. It almost looked comical enough to distract Tony from his current situation.

“What?” Rhodey was looking between everyone, probably noticing everyone at different stages of figuring something out but still not quite there himself yet. Tony's phone vibrated in his pocket. He slid it out, already knowing who it was.

**DoeJohn**

Just say it.

He smirked.

**TheMechanic**

You say it.

Bucky’s phone vibrated in his hand. Rhodey looked from one phone to the other than back again.

“ _You’re_ John?”

Bucky chuckled. “Aw, honey, you told them about me?”

“You know they were hounding me about always being on my phone.”

Rhodey looked between them both. “He’s who you’ve been talking to this whole time?”

Steve had been noticeably quiet next to Bucky, but Tony hadn’t forgotten about him; it was hard to when he was pinning Tony with a sharp look.

“This was how you found him,” Steve said after a moment, voice taking on a hint of awe Tony didn’t want to inspect too closely because it made him shift uncomfortably. “When no one else could, when I couldn’t. Because of...”

“A Stark Fan Appreciation Chat,” Bucky supplied around a smirk, and Tony wondered if this was what falling in love was like, or maybe it was realizing that the person he’d loved all along was one badass motherfucker, who maybe had a nerd boy level crush on his brain.

“Really?” Clint asked, laughing, burger forgotten in his hand. “Really, really?”

“That might be a new level for you, Tony,” Natasha commented. “Though, the outcome seems to have worked in your favor.”

Steve took a step towards Tony, and then another. “In most ways,” Tony replied, bracing for Steve’s reaction. Natasha and Pepper were laughing at his stuttered reply, but all Tony could do was freeze as Steve moved closer, then Tony jolted when Steve wrapped his arms around Tony. Holding on for a beat too long. “Thank you,” he whispered into Tony’s hair. “Thank you so much.”

Tony could barely see over Steve’s shoulder but he was able to make eye contact with Bucky. Then he watched as Bucky looked down at his phone and typed something quickly. Tony couldn’t look at it yet, not with Steve’s arms fixed around his own, but he was able to read the joy in Bucky’s message without needing to read the words.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves* Hi everyone! As you all know, this story is coming to an end. I can hardly believe it! I've been blown away by the support and love you all have given this story. I really can't express how much it means to me, to everyone who kudosed, commented, bookmarked or shared this story--thank you! This will be the last official chapter, with the next being a bonus R-rated epilogue. I hope you enjoy!

Tony had told Bucky to meet him in the workshop, which in and of itself was not abnormal. Tony had run diagnostics on his arm down there, and it was always full of experiments and half-built tech. Bucky was endlessly curious, and Tony knew that about him from countless conversations in chat. Nothing much had changed on that front, except now Tony could see his excitement, instead of just imagining it. 

Elevator doors opening to a dark lab, was unusual however. Still, the glass door opened when Bucky pushed it, so he stepped inside. 

It was quiet. Every other time he’d come down, it’d been alive with life: robots fluttering about, music playing, Iron Man suits standing by, and Tony at the center of it all. It was exactly how he’d imagined an genius scientist's workshop to be when he first fell in love with science as a boy. All the excitement he felt at the expo, but instead of being far away and mysterious, it was right at his fingertips and Tony was there to answer any and every question he had. 

But now it was dark, only a single emergency light on overhead. It was still, and there was no Tony in sight. 

He pulled out his phone.

PRIVATE MESSAGES:

**DoeJohn**

Where are you?

**DoeJohn**

You called me down here to stand in a dark, empty workshop?

**TheMechanic**

Not empty.

“Through the door!”

Bucky hadn’t even noticed the door, nestled in the corner in the far end of the workshop that he had never had the time to investigate. 

**DoeJohn**

You’re the most dramatic person I know.

**DoeJohn**

And my best friend runs around in patriotic colors.

“I’m not your best friend, yet?” Tony’s shout was muffled by the door, but Bucky could still hear the playful pout in the question. Then, after a moment, Bucky’s phone buzzed in his hand. 

**TheMechanic**

Walk. Through. The. Door.

As he made his way past some large equipment, he saw light shining from under the bottom of the door. “Something better not jump out and scare me when I open this.”

**TheMechanic**

Now I’m tempted to jump out, but it wouldn’t be to scare you.

“What would you do?”

“Open the door and find out.”

Bucky’s stomach flipped. He thought about how just yesterday Tony had cornered him against the common room wall and kissed him stupid. The thought that maybe Tony was about to do the same again brought a heat to his face that didn’t leave as he pushed open the door. 

The first thing he saw was Tony. He was standing in front of something large, arms crossed but legs out in a wide V, like he was unconsciously trying to hide whatever was behind him with his body. 

The second thing Bucky noticed was that Tony was biting his lip, he looked nervous, and it immediately made Bucky tighten his grip around his phone. An itch shot through him to text  **TheMechanic** , ask him if everything was all right. It almost overpowered his curiosity, but only almost--because behind Tony was a large object with a white sheet thrown over it. 

“Whatcha got there?” he couldn’t resist asking, certain now that it was what Tony had called him downstairs to see. He wondered if, when revealed, it would make up for the fact that Tony hadn’t wanted to makeout instead. 

“Oh, this ol' thing?” Tony asked with a smile, nervousness fading away to excitement. “Just had some blueprints lying around, thought I could shake off the dust and spruce them up a bit.”

It was difficult to tell what was under the sheet, like Tony had purposely wanted to conceal its shape, so he put a box over it. Bucky stepped forward, poised to reach out and lift the sheet. Tony was still beaming, but when he got close Tony grabbed Bucky’s hand and tugged until they faced one another. “Watch,” Tony whispered, shoving his other hand in his pocket and pulling out what looked to be a USB drive, if not for the large button on it that Tony pressed, eyes never leaving Bucky’s face. 

Sounds whirred behind him, and Bucky was captivated by the shades of brown in Tony’s eyes, the way he bounced up and down on his heels with excitement, how they could so freely occupy the same space now, like their PM had physically manifested, forming a space where they could come together. It was so easy to kiss Tony now, whenever he wanted. 

“Uh, Buck?” Tony was looking at something over his shoulder. It had been easy to forget he had a reason to be down here that wasn’t admiring Tony. A swishing sound accompanied the whirring one, and when Bucky turned around, the sheet-covered box was six feet off the ground.

“What the--” Bucky stumbled back, into Tony, who wrapped an arm around his waist, and whispered in his ear, “Watch.”

Tony must’ve pressed another button because an engine sound roared to life like they were at the starting line of a race. Bucky thought for a second that the sound was coming from a different part of the workshop but then four wheels lowered from the box and Bucky stood transfixed as an entire car followed. 

A flying car. 

“You didn’t.”

Tony must’ve pressed another button because the car shot forward, across the workshop, the box and sheet dropping to the floor with a thud, but Bucky hardly reacted to the noise, too focused on the flying car doing spins under the high workshop ceiling.

“I did.” Tony’s voice sounded smug in his ear. 

“But you said Stark Industries couldn’t--”

“Stark Industries couldn’t make it cost effective, but this isn’t for Stark Industries.”

It was hard to focus when the flying car of his dreams was zooming back and forth overhead. “This is for me?”

“We’ll you were always throwing it in my face in chat, so now you can’t anymore.” Tony’s smile was contagious.

Bucky barked out a laugh. “Chat will never believe this.”

“Maybe not, but who cares? Made your dreams come true anyway.”

Bucky felt dazed, still in awe when Tony lowered the car down in front of them. With an eye on the car, Bucky reached for Tony, pulling him into a deep kiss before pulling back and meeting Tony’s gaze. “Yeah. Yeah, you did.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, the last chapter! Ending this fic feels a lot like watching my baby grow up and graduate. I never expected this story to bloom the way it has and I just want to thank everyone whose read this story and all of you that kudosed, liked, commented or shared it. I also want to thank Wren for bidding on me and donating to help with Puerto Rico's recovery efforts after Hurricane Maria, and also providing me with the prompt that grew in to this story! One final thanks to Festiveferret, my trusted beta and love, for all your help and encouragement along the way. 
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoy this last chapter. Thank you, dear reader, for coming along on this journey with me!
> 
> (Disclaimer: This epilogue is Rated M. :D )

_Three Months Later_

**Brobot**

I don’t understand why we are even having this argument. *Of course* holoscreens would be better than tablets, in what world are you living Mechanic?

**TheMechanic**

Look, I agree with you 99% of the time. Me? Number one fan of holoscreens. But I get why someone would want a tablet for drawing designs. The screen adds a certain resistance.

**Brobot**

Archaic. Never thought I’d see the day where I’d have to throw the label on you. @mods, add the Archaic role onto Mechanic.

Next to Tony on the couch in the back corner of the workshop, Bucky snorted into his phone. Tony grinned around his own, legs stretched out into Bucky’s lap.

**Bunson the Burner**

Did you really just ping me in here for a fake role designation?

**Brobot**

You’re the one that answered Schrödinger’s call for mods.

**MarkX**

And *he* was the one who forgot to leave excessive mod pinging off the **#rules** channel.

Tony rolled his eyes and switched channels from **#general** to **#brainstorming**.

**g33kski11z**

I get that it hasn’t been done before

Bucky was snickering next to him on the couch, his fingers rapidly shooting over the keyboard as Tony saw _**DoeJohn** is typing…. _ appear on the bottom of the screen.

**DoeJohn**

I’m pretty sure there’s a reason you don’t want to put plastic next to fire.

**Excelsior13**

Ya :rolling_eyes:

**g33kski11z**

Roll those eyes back at yourself because I’m right, google it.

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

I hate to admit this John...but I think g33k isn’t entirely wrong

**DoeJohn**

Really?

“Really?” Bucky asked aloud. Tony chose to answer in-chat.

**TheMechanic**

He’s right guys, as much as it pains me to admit it. :tongue_face:

**g33kski11z**

See the resident genius mechanic has spoken. I wasn’t wrong about science--first time for everything

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

:cheers_beers:

**TheMechanic**

Lol

The laughing next to him subsided, replaced by a foot coming up to rub along his calf. “Always gotta be right, huh?” Bucky chuckled.

Tony bit his lip to ward off a smile. “Can’t help it.”

“Cause you’re such a genius.” The foot moved higher, to wrap behind Tony’s knee, and Bucky hooked it there before turning to face Tony, a heat burning in his eyes. “Mr. Know-it-All.”

Tony swallowed. “I don’t--I don’t actually see you complaining.” He looked back on the screen and typed a quick reply to chat. Bucky glanced back down to his own phone and typed something more.

**DoeJohn**

So that solves the first problem, we can just use whatever the Mechanic brings over.

**TheMechanic**

Am I your supplier now?

**g33kski11z**

Yes

**Excelsior13**

Yes

**Bunson the Burner**

Yes

**TheMechanic**

You weren’t even this chat, Bunson!

**DoeJohn**

Yes

The only reason his reply was late was because he’d shifted closer to Tony, began to run a hand up and down his leg, teasing at his thigh. Tony’s breath shuddered on his next inhale and he didn’t have to look at Bucky to know that he was smirking, before he looked back down at his phone.

**DoeJohn**

We still need to figure out how to get enough g-forces though.

Tony read the chat, and something about the casualness of it, of how Bucky could continue the conversation with ease, while still teasing at Tony’s edges, made him want to up the ante.

**TheMechanic**

Repulsor technology

He let chat’s replies to his suggestion blur as he turned to face Bucky’s neck and bit lightly at the skin. Bucky gasped, the last bit of his focus finally pulling from chat as his eyes slipped closed. “You wanna go into space?” Tony whispered into Bucky’s ear. “You wanna go anywhere, have anything--” he bit the sensitive earlobe and Bucky hissed under him. “I started building you that car long before you were anyone but John. I’ll start building you a spaceship right now, if you want it.”

That confession seemed to make Bucky pay more attention, sitting up and dislodging Tony from his ear, which, really, was quite disappointing, at least until he saw that awed expression on Bucky’s face. It was the one that he loved to put on Bucky’s face, watch it light up his eyes. Only now, the expression was mixed with arousal, turning it more predatory by the second, and Tony felt his heart race and blood rush south.

“Really?” Bucky’s voice was raspy around the word. He turned them until Tony’s back was pressed against the couch, Bucky coming to slit astride his lap. “When--” He kissed his mouth hard, deep, it felt like he was trying to taste every bit of Tony, before pulling back just as quick. “When did you start building it?”

“Oh…” Tony swallowed. “I don’t know…?” He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to admit that he started it after that first conversation--just tinkering, no real intent to ever deliver, but, well, Tony couldn’t help himself. “...when you first mentioned it.”

Bucky chuckled into Tony’s ear. “You’re unreal.”

“Pretty sure, I’m entirely real,” Tony managed, his breath coming out too ragged, but with the way Bucky’s hips were moving against his own, he could hardly help himself.

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, mouthing along Tony’s neck before sliding to his knees, hand coming up to run along the bulge in Tony’s pants. “Yeah, you are. As impossible as you seem.”

“Impossible--?” Tony’s broke off in a gasp as Bucky tugged down his pants and ran his mouth along his cloth covered cock. “Oh, god, Bucky.”

Bucky sent him another smirk before tugging down at his boxers and wrapping his beautiful pink lips around Tony. Every sensation narrowed to the point where there bodies met, and Bucky began a slow rock, back and forth, up and down Tony’s shaft. He wouldn’t last long; he never seemed to when Bucky had his hands or his mouth on him. Not with Bucky’s own cock out and in his hand, looking glorious as he fisted himself in time with his own mouth driving Tony crazy. They’d only been together a few months, and Tony wondered if one day the novelty--the heat he felt for this man--would fade away, but when Bucky twisted his tongue under the head of his cock, Tony was done for. He couldn’t imagine ever getting used to how it felt to spill down Bucky’s throat as Bucky groaned, the sensation of the sound running along his sensitive cock, as Bucky spilled over his own hand. 

“Fuck,” Tony breathed. “That was hot.” Tony brought his arms up along the top of the couch and it didn’t take long before Bucky was pushing himself back up and coming to curl by his side, face painted with a smug, satisfied smirk. Bucky kissed his cheek and picked up his phone.

Tony rolled his head on his neck, loose from his orgasm. “Gonn to tell chat about this?” he joked. 

Bucky replied with a laugh. “I can ask **#brainstorming** about tips next time.”

“Like you need tips.” Tony picked up his own phone, scrolling through what he missed from the spaceship conversation.

 **_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing_ ….

 **_TheMechanic_ ** _is typing…._

**g33kski11z**

You guys are back--we were wondering.

Next to him Bucky chuckled.

**TheMechanic**

Miss us?

**Schrödinger’s Dog**

Wait...were you guys afk together?

Bucky tensed next to him, and Tony wondered if he was running through a million scenarios in his mind, trying to figure out if they were in danger, if a threat lay down this path. At least, that’s what Tony thought until he looked back up at Tony with mischief in his gaze. “Should we tell them?”

Tony knew his surprise must be clear on his face. “Tell them…?”

“Not that you’re Tony Stark...at least, that’s not what I meant. Telling them _that_ is up to you. I just meant.” Bucky shrugged. “They’d lose their minds if they knew we ended up in the same place. Hanging out together.”

Tony bit his lip. They had a trip planned for Costa Rica next week, going to go hang out with Señora Flores and Bucky’s friends from the hostel properly. It’d be easier to explain to chat why they were both appearing and disappearing at the same time, if they did know. And a part of him couldn’t help but feel the curl of possession in his gut, at the thought of everyone knowing **DoeJohn** was his.

**Bunson the Burner**

***** insert long awkward silence*

“Let’s do it,” Tony said, eyes flicking between Bucky and the chat.

 **_DoeJohn_ ** _is typing_ ….

 **_TheMechanic_ ** _is typing…._

**DoeJohn**

Maybe.

**TheMechanic**

Hard to type when you’re making out.

“Tony!” Bucky laughed next to him as chat exploded with questions, asking how they met and how long they’d been together. Tony chuckled, pulling Bucky even closer as he replied with one hand.

**TheMechanic**

That’s a long story.

**g33kski11z**

We have time!

“Leave out some details?” Tony asked.

Bucky nodded, biting his lip against a smile as he started to type.

**DoeJohn**

Well, it all started with a ticking fan...

_fin_


End file.
